Fickle
by Old Fiat
Summary: High school students are so fickle. Slash, Tryan Rated T because... I have no idea...
1. Prologue

**Fickle**

Old Fiat

Disclaimer: I do not own _High School Musical_. I will never own _High School Musical_. Though, I am considering going into acting and I want to work for Disney. (Seriously. I really do.)

Summary: High school students are so fickle.

Notes: Okay, so Tertiary Genesis (who is this wicked awesome Australian guy who you can and should look up on FFN if you haven't heard of his fanfic _Lockdown_.) said that I should do a Tryan fanfic when I asked if I could borrow the premise of _He Was Laughing_ (another story by him). I said before that I would write one and post it on his birthday as a present, but I kind of wanted to post this _now_ so I'll probably write _another_ Tryan for his birthday.

Dedicated to: Tertiary Genesis, _**DUH**_.

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**Prologue**

High school students are so fickle.

They all loved me when I was manly-man, basketball star. Sure, their infatuation with me dipped slightly when they discovered I was auditioning for a musical, but once they found out it was for a girl (a very pretty one at that) it was all okay.

Turned out most of the other kids in the school had interests other then what they were mostly known for. Zeke baked, Sharpay was more interested in law school than Broadway, and Chad confessed to me (far out of earshot of anyone else) that he loved dancing a little more than basketball.

Even though it was now generally accepted at East High that everyone had more than one side to them, none of the student body would ever heal from this. I guess they can't handle something this out of stereotype. Not that it's really _that_ out of stereotype, I mean, I'm sure there are a ton of other basketball players who are…

Okay. Calm down. I need to get back on track. Stop rambling.

My story starts around… July. I love July. It's the peak of summertime, a nice cozy valley between the two hills of the memories of previous school year and the predictions of the up-coming one.

Woah…. That was totally sappy. Sorry. I promise I'll never do that again. I do like July though.

Only problem with my story is… it's a _love story_. Blech. Normally I hate romance in stories unless it's part of the plot. If the main plot is mostly about not-love. (I hated that bit in _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince_ with Ginny and stuff. That part sucked compared to all the other cool horcrux stuff.) But my English teacher wants each of us students to write a story. SERIOUSLY! A whole story! At least 10,000 words. And I'm not a very creative person when it comes to plot and characters and stuff. I mean, English is, like, my best subject. I get most of it and I can be pretty articulate when I want to be, but I'm not good at coming up with whole original stories.

So I'm writing a non-fictional story about… me. (They say to write what you know, right?) Maybe this will clear up some of the rumors and stuff. I don't know. This also cuts my work load in half because she wants us to plot them out before we start writing and it's like, I already know what happened so whatever.

But, yeah. This is my story. It starts in July (well, actually last January, but just barely) and it's a love story (yuck).

Enjoy!

-Troy Bolton

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**So that was kind-very short, but it was the ****prologue****. I have a minimum of 1,000 words with each of my chapters so don't worry! The rest won't be this short.**

**-Old Fiat s. Italy**


	2. Fireworks

**Fickle**

Old Fiat

Okay, since I haven't really plotted out this story (well, sort of. I know the basic ending and certain things I want to happen, but nothing is set in stone.), all suggestions will be taken into careful consideration and may even be put in the story. If you have something you'd like to see happen, just tell me in your comment!

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**Chapter One: Fireworks**

"Come on, Troy!" called Chad. It was the end of our work shift at Lava Springs, the country club where we both worked as waiters. Continuing to help Jason, one of my friends and fellow workers, finish up the dishes, I looked up.

"Where are we going?" I asked my best-friend-of-all-time. Chad laughed.

"Sharpay invited us around to the pool, remember?" he said, pulling off the pale blue uniform. "Or was _someone_ distracting you?" He rolled his eyes.

I smiled and turned back to the soapy water. "Maybe," I said in a vague attempt to dodge his question. Everyone in the room knew who he was talking about, Gabriella, my girlfriend. His coffee-colored face broke into a huge grin.

"I knew it," he said. "Well, she told us all to come over there. July fourth celebration-like-thing."

"All of us?" I questioned, scrubbing a filthy pot. "Like all the Wildcats?"

"Yeah," he sat down on the bright metal counter as I examined my reflection in the mirror. All the Wildcats meant Gabriella would be there.

"Do I look okay?" I asked, looking at Chad again, who had changed out of his waiter's uniform and into a pair of cut-off jeans and an orange polo.

I guess I was particularly amusing that day because Chad laughed again.

"You look fine," he said, shaking his head and making his mass of curly brown hair bounce. "Just ditch the stupid outfit."

As if I wouldn't. I hated the stupid waiter gear. It wasn't that it was uncomfortable or anything, I just loathed the stiffness of the fabric. I mean, even after about fifty washes this thing was still as inflexible as a block of wood.

Still it would be fun to hang around the pool on the Fourth of July. Normally, my dad and me lit off fireworks in the backyard and tried not to hit the tree. This year, he and my mom were going out for dinner together and I was going call over the guys. I guess now I didn't have to.

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Jason and I marched down through the dark lawns of the country club to the patch of light that was the pool. Most of the gang were down there already—Chad inclusive. I had opted to assist Jason with the dishes and the rest of the kitchen.

I had followed Chad's (and my own) advice and 'ditched' the waiter's uniform for my blue-and-white striped button-up t-shirt that I knew Gabriella loved and some boardies. Jason had changed into a Wildcats t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Gabriella ran over as the pool lights illuminated us. As usual, she looked stunning. I don't even remember what she was wearing, but I know it was pink.

Her arms wrapped around my neck, she planted a kiss on my cheek. I felt myself blush. How stupid. I blushed every time she telephoned, every time she kissed me, etc. Even sometimes when she just _looked_ my cheeks went red. I don't know why I blush so much. It has something to do with blood cells rushing to your cheeks when you're embarrassed or something. Damn Caucasian coloring.

"Hi Troy," she whispered in my ear. I don't really know why she whispered, but it made me turn a deeper shade of crimson.

"Hey Gabs," I said, trying to pretend like my face wasn't the color of a ripe tomato. I prayed that no one else saw.

I put my arm around her shoulder and we joined up with the rest of group. Sharpay, the daughter of the club's owners and a pretty close friend of mine, smiled at my arrival.

"Who wants fireworks?" she called. There was a roar of approval from all the students. She swung her long blonde hair over her shoulder and whipped out a walkie-talkie from her purse, which was placed neatly beside her chez-lounge.

"Fulton," she said into the hunk of black plastic. Mr. Fulton was the manager of Lava Springs and one of the many people who bowed down before Sharpay. "I'd like fireworks to be lit at—" she glanced at her pink wristwatch. "Ten… Thank you."

I pulled off my shirt and turned to Gabriella. "Care for a swim?"

She giggled. "Troy, I'm not wearing a swim suit right now. You go on."

I shrugged and dived into the cool, chlorine-filled depths. I've always loved swimming, the way your body feels almost weight-less in the water. I popped up right in front of the rocky, waterfall motif.

Grabbing on to one of the sharp hunks of perfectly placed stone, I held myself above the bright blue water and watched Gabriella as she sat down next to Sharpay. Gabriella was perfect—well, to me anyways. I'm sure Chad could've found several flaws at a glance if I asked him, but I didn't want to. She was so flawless and when I was next to her, I felt perfect too. I don't know how she worked her magic, and I don't really care to know. I just wanted more of the wonderful feeling she gave me.

I was pulled out of my Gabriella-induced trance when someone threw a large beach ball at my head.

"Oy!" I called, letting go of the rock and turning in the water to face the person responsible for destroying my daydream. It was Chad. He was laughing, again.

"Dude!" he said, his huge grin in place. "Sorry! Total accident."

Oh yeah right with that smile.

I pushed my hands forward through the water to splash him and succeeded in creating a nice little wave.

Quickly whipping his eyes, he splashed me back. We continued our mini-water war until Taylor came over, one eyebrow raised in a 'Well-aren't-you-two-geniuses' expression.

Taylor is Chad's girlfriend and Gabriella's best friend. I didn't really know her that well until Gabriella moved here and we sort of 'destroy the status quo'. (Or, at least, that's what Chad told me a while ago. I wasn't quite conscious of it at the time.) She's, like, a total genius and actually quite pretty. She was awfully sarcastic though.

I quickly stopped splashing Chad once I saw Taylor face.

"Wow," she shook her head, her dark, wet hair swinging. "Maybe I was wrong to rethink my lunkhead-basketball boy theory…"

I laughed. "Come on, Tay! We're just having fun." I splashed her.

She dunked under water and swam off, resurfacing by the edge of the pool near Gabriella and Sharpay.

The party went on this way for a while. People went in and out of the pool, chatting and splashing each other, couples disappeared for long spaces of time, guys tried to show off for the girls with cannon balls and back flips and the girls giggled and pretended not to notice.

Finally, Sharpay called out to the enormous group again.

"Hey everyone!" she shouted. It's no wonder Sharpay is the queen of the drama club, that girl can _project_! "The fireworks are going to go off soon!"

I climbed out of the water and grabbed a towel off one of the pool chairs. Slipping back on my shirt, I joined Gabriella, Sharpay and Taylor.

"Hey," I said, sitting down next to her. She turned to me and smiled.

"Hey," she said back, giving me one of her shy, secretive smiles.

"Ten seconds," Sharpay said loudly, and then, more to herself than anyone, muttered, "_If_ Fulton has followed my orders…"

I guess he did because exactly ten seconds later a streak of white sparks shot up the sky, paused, and then exploded into a huge burst of silver lights. Echoing _boom_ of the fireworks melted in with the loud cheers of the surrounding students.

I looked down at Gabriella, her beautiful brown eyes reflecting the bursts of red sparks, and then around the crowd of people. I could name almost every single one of them by name. There was Jason, Fred, Chris, Taylor, Sara, Martha, Zeke, Kelsi, Chad, Ryan…

I hadn't noticed that Ryan was there. I didn't really notice him most of the time actually, which is weird since he's such a noticeable person. Every single day dawned with a new brightly colored outfit, but after a while he just sort of melted into the background of Sharpay. (He used to be, like, her slave.) He had just sort of become invisible until this summer when he came out of her shadow, and then I still didn't really notice him.

I don't know what happened but the moment my eyes fell on the pale blonde twin, my stomach turned over. I couldn't understand how I managed to ignore him for so long. Suddenly, only he was standing with me in the cool night air. His milky white skin turned red and blue from the lights of the fireworks. I couldn't breathe. I could feel my skin turning red.

"Hey Troy," Gabriella whispered in my ear, slamming me back down to earth. I looked down at her. She didn't seem as breathtaking as she did earlier that evening, as she did mere seconds before, compared to Ryan. "Best Fourth of July ever, right?"

My breath caught in my throat. "Yeah," I choked out, trying to focus on the explosions of red, blue, green and white. My gaze still fell back down to Ryan, standing with Chad across the water. The flipping feeling in my stomach returned.

What had just happened?

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**Oooooh! I want to hear suggestions/predictions! I always love them.**

**-OFsI**


	3. Love Sick

**Fickle**

Old Fiat

I do want suggestions/predictions, guys. It doesn't matter how weird and far out. Sorry if I'm being too nagging and stuff, but I really enjoy them!

Oh yeah, and there was a bit in the last chapter about Troy looking in 'a mirror' while doing the dishes. That was a mistake on my part. I meant to put 'I looked at my reflection in the tap' or something like that. Sorry about that!

And ONE LAST THING (I swear!), this chapter really seems like part of the first chapter, and it probably should be, so sorry 'bout that. And I repeat myself a bit.

Now, on to the story!

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**Chapter Two: Love Sick**

I feigned sickness the rest of the week. I couldn't bring myself to face the rest of the gang. I don't know why, but I couldn't bring myself to face any of them—particularly Ryan. I mean, as I said before, I barely know Ryan—I think I've spoken to him about… three times outside temple or school—why did I suddenly notice him that night? And why in such an… extreme way?

And then when I'd looked down at Gabriella and she'd seemed less beautiful than she had before I looked at Ryan. How was that even possible? Maybe some pool water had gotten into my brain and destroyed some of the cells. That was the only explanation that made an ounce of sense to me. All the others involved far weirder sciences, the kind you might find in _Spider Man_ or some other comic book. (Though, pool water to the brain is pretty weird.)

I was curled up under the quilt in my room, forcing myself to cough so my dad wouldn't become suspicious and trying to sort out my thoughts, when my cell phone began to ring.

Slowly getting out of bed, I wandered over to the closet and pulled the device out of my jacket pocket. I flipped it open and Gabriella's smiling picture appeared on the screen.

"Hello?" I said, holding the earpiece to my head.

"Hi Troy!" said—to no surprise because of my caller I.D.—Gabriella. Her chipper voice startled me a little and I sat down on my bed.

"Gabs, what's up?" I asked, running my finger along some of the seams of the patchwork blanket. I usually like speaking to Gabriella, but today I felt nervous and, for some reason, a little scared.

"What's up with _me_?" she said happily, albeit a little sarcastically. "What's up with _you_, Troy? You've not been to work in three days; you've not answered any of my emails—where've you been?"

I laughed slightly. "I've been sick, Gabi."

She gave a little gasp and immediately went into apologetic mode. "Oh my God, Troy. I'm so sorry! Did I wake you? Are you okay? I'm wicked sorry…"She would've gone on, but I cut her off.

"It's fine, I was just lying around in bed. I just have a slight sore throat and a cough. That's all," I shouldn't have told her the symptoms.

"You don't sound like you have a sore thr—" there was a burst of giggles and static. "Ryan! Quit it! Sorry, _a certain naughty club member_ is tickling the employees." she said, half to me, half to the culprit. My stomach tightened.

"Is Ryan there?" I said a little too quickly.

"Yeah, even though he really shouldn't be. He might get us in trouble. Anyway," she gave a little sigh, the kind you give after you laugh a lot. "You really don't sound like you have a sore throat."

I gave a little chuckle, and made myself go into a coughing fit.

"S-sorry," I said, still coughing. "The virus is towards the end of its run. I'll be there tomorrow."

I shouldn't have given a date. Now I couldn't get out of it.

"See you then!" she said and hung up.

I closed my phone and flopped down on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

My room is never redecorated. I have the same navy blue color on the walls that I've had since second grade, I buy the same color sheets and duvet cover (yes, I know I said quilt before. I usually take the duvet off for summer.) that I've bought since seventh grade and the same range of trophies and books on the same rows of wooden shelves. Not that I don't like my room that way—I adore its never-changing quality—but I know most of my friends at least move around the furniture in their rooms in the summer or some thing. The only thing that's changed about my room is that the Tyra Banks poster that once hung on the wall has now found a home in the closet for fear of being found by Gabriella. I don't think she'd appreciate it.

Even though I probably could've come up with some excuse to avoid it, I went to work the next day. Not that I was any actual help—I was a hindrance if anything because I was far too distracted making sure I avoided Ryan. Actually, avoiding Ryan had become a lot harder than it used to be because he'd joined the Wildcat 'gang' that summer along with his twin sister Sharpay.

In fact, I was thinking about making sure not to look at Ryan, who had just arrived in the kitchen to tease Chad, while trying to sweep up some of the broken glass on the floor, when a pair was soft hands covered my eyes.

"Guess who?" a sweet voice whispered in my ear.

I felt myself blush, again. I've got to stop doing that.

"Gabi?" I (not really) guessed.

She spun around to stand in front of me. She was still wearing her lifeguard uniform, having just gotten off her shift. I always liked the way she looked in red, so bright and cheerful—anyway. She smiled up at me, her curly hair sitting around her shoulders.

"Hi Troy," she said, going up on her toes to kiss me on the cheek. I blushed even harder, looking like even more of a fool. "Ready for lunch?"

I nodded and grinned at her. It was weird. She was just as drop-dead gorgeous as she'd been a week before, but instead of feeling perfect too, (as I mentioned before, see chapter one for details.) I felt… I don't know how to say it. Flawed, awkward, silly, ugly…

But we went off to have lunch together anyway, both smiling.

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I hate to say it, but most of July passed in the same fashion; avoid Ryan (which is even more difficult in Gabriella's company because he's her second-best friend), go out with Gabriella, work, hang out with the gang, hang out with my dad…

But, despite my best efforts, there were still times when I _had_ to see the Evans twins—I wasn't just a waiter, I was a caddy too, at their parent's country club. Whenever my eyes fell on Ryan I found myself hypnotized, and sort of dizzy, which was really, _really_ stupid on a golf course. Then Sharpay would catch me staring and say something annoying that was probably quoted from Shakespeare. It's usually "Was ever a woman in this humor woo'd?" I guess she thought I was looking at her. (That is a seriously weird quote. Sometimes she would say, "Asses were made to bear and so are you." instead, which is even weirder.)

I found myself becoming more and more entranced by Ryan and less and less so by Gabriella. Gabriella suddenly seemed much more a best friend (albeit a very attractive best friend) than a girl friend. Her dark, sultry features that once made me so nervous and excited seemed beautiful yes, but not as thrilling. Not _boring_ so to speak, but certainly not as stimulating.

By July 31st, I'd made up my mind. If I couldn't be honest with Gabriella then we couldn't be together. I would never _ever_ use another human being as cover for something.

I hated the idea, but I had to end it.

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**Suggestions/Predictions, please!! Even for the far, far future of this story! I really need them! Or even just a "I really like this story! Update soon!" type of thing is fine. I don't get many reviews so any kind of feedback is good. (:**

**-OFsI**


	4. Break Up Dancing

**Fickle**

Old Fiat

Wow! I'm sorry this chapter took so long. I've been uninspired lately. And bored. But not in the mood for writing. Arg. Anyway, I apologize for the lateness.

By the way, many of you were pretty close to accurate in your predictions, but I still want more! I can refurbish them into ideas for these chapters. But I love feedback of any kind, so all is appreciated.

For all those who like insider tidbits, I wrote the last segment first and then went back up and wrote the rest. Weird, huh?

Sorry for any typos and such. This was a bit of a rush job and a quick posting.

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**Chapter Three: Break-Up Dancing**

"What?"

I think that was the word I had heard most often in the past fifteen minutes. Actually, it was the _only_ word I'd heard other than my own stupid babbling.

Okay, so that's probably a bad way to start. Let's go back to… Late July—Chad's birthday and the days preceding it and the days following…

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I decided I would make there was nothing I disliked about Ryan before I broke up with Gabriella. This study of my emotions came in steps, most of which I'd gone through. While it may sound weird, I've gone through this mental checklist with most of the people I like. It's a very useful way to dismiss crushes and such. (Exception: Tyra, because nothing will ever come of that and no matter what I do she is _still_ hot. Also I can't really talk to her.) Anyway, this is the way the list goes:

1.) _Observe him/her physically_ (is there anything you dislike about his/her appearance? His/her walk? His/her habits?) **Done**. I'd been doing that the past couple of weeks.

2.) _Observe his/her vocal patterns_ (anything you don't like about his/her accent? His/her "catch phrases"? Any common grammatical errors you don't like?) **Done**. I love his voice. (Isn't that awful? I feel so stupid writing it.)

3.) _Talk to him/her_ (Speak to him/her about his/her opinions, hobbies, and favorites. How many things do you have in common?) **Not done**.

So the only thing I really needed to do was talk to Ryan. This was a frightening concept, seeing as most of the time when I liked someone and tried to talk to them… Well, while I could actually do it without stuttering or making too much of a fool of myself _vocally_, I still blushed like crazy. This used to happen a lot with Gabriella, even after we were going out.

What if I spoke to Ryan Evans in a group setting? That wouldn't be so bad. Well, it probably still would be, but not as much so. That way, I could ease myself into talking to him. Yes!

_But where would you speak to Ryan Evans in a "group setting"?_ asked a part of my brain that I've been considering taking, slaughtering and eating for breakfast.

I considered this thought for a moment, and then it hit me. Chad's birthday party was in a couple of days! I knew all the Wildcats were going over to his house for a "big" party (No, not a teen movie-style party. Those don't actually happen a lot with the East High student body because most of them are very moral Christians [or Jews. I'm included in this minority. and so stuff like that almost never goes on.) and, so, Ryan would probably be there. He and Chad had formed a kind of friendship over the summer that I doubt I will ever understand. But he would be there. I could talk to him.

I'm a genius.

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Not that many people were at Chad's party (this was actually very good, because I dislike crowds), just a couple of friends; Ryan, Zeke, Jason, Chad, Martha, Kelsi, Taylor Sharpay, Gabriella and me. I doubt Chad's mom would've let one more person in the house, even Andrew Lloyd Webber. (She loves _The Phantom of the Opera_ for unknown reasons.)

It was fun though. We sat around watching all three _Spider Man_ films, shouting the lines before the actors said them because we'd all seen them so many times. Ryan actually did a fair impersonation of Mary-Jane/Kristen, perfectly holding up his falsetto. Chad began to deliver Peter/Spider Man/Toby's lines to Ryan. It became a big acting fit where I was cast as Doctor Octopus, J. Jonah Jameson and the Sand Man. We had actually gotten to the point where we were physically acting out the scenes (it was Sand Man's creation so I was writhing on the carpet while everyone else laughed from the beige, leather sofa.) when Chad's mother came in.

I'd always thought Mrs. Danforth was pretty, in a very foreign sort of way. She was Italian—actually raised in Rome—and had skin the color of caramel and thick, dark hair that fell in deep black waves to her shoulders (though it was usually pulled back in a ponytail). She had a slim build and very long legs. She stared down at me on the white, pushy mass, more than a little confused. I looked up at her and blushed.

"Hi Mrs. Danforth," I said, my voice a little high-pitched. "What's up?"

She said something to Chad in Italian and he paused the film, which, as I hadn't realized before, was turned up almost all the way.

Waiting until all of our ears were adjusted to the sudden quiet, she spoke.

"There is a cake in the kitchen which you can all frost if it didn't fall from your movies," her voice, despite her round, bouncy way of speaking, was reprimanding in tone. I could see she was laughing slightly though.

We all got up and followed her to the kitchen. Chad would always have every guest help frost the cake at all of his birthday parties as a tradition. Usually though, it would be just me, him, Jason and Zeke. Because of the additions of six (I think) other people, the cake ended up with at least an inch of frosting. Probably more. We all got so hyper because of it though. (Of course, we had to eat it once we had finished all of our dinner where Chad's mom attempted hamburgers, but they ended up tasting a lot like meatballs.) After _Spider Man 3_ ended, Chad slipped a CD into the stereo system. Hello Goodbye, if I wasn't mistaken.

Anyway, we were all dancing around the beige and slightly dull living room when I took my chance. Ryan was dancing by himself near the edge of the room, his pink poor-boy cap bouncing on his head as his body carried through the complicated dance steps. His feet tapped, his torso spun, his arms always slightly out for balance. For a second, I was hypnotized again, but then I remembered that I had to talk to him and pulled myself out of the Evans-trance. (That thing needs to be patented. They would seriously make a fortune on just up-tight businesswomen alone. Or maybe it only worked on me.)

I walked over to him, trying to block out the electronic voice pounding out of the speakers. Ironically, the song seemed to say the exactly what I'd been feeling.

"_You are the one, the one that lies close to me_

_Whispers "Hello, I miss you quite terribly."_

_I fell in love, in love with you suddenly_

_Now there's no place I could be, but here in your arms…"_

I stepped right in front of him, a smile on myself. Damn, I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. Ryan seemed not to notice though. I guess he thought my cheeks were red from dancing.

"Hey," I said softly.

"What?" he said, looking slightly confused and, to my horror, adorable.

"Nice dancing," I said this louder. He smiled, truly grateful.

"Thanks Bolton," he said. "I can show you how. Right now, if you want."

My first instinct was to say 'No thanks,' but if I wanted to find out how much I liked Ryan I would have to get close to him, right? I nodded and he began to show me a couple hip-hop moves. It was fun. Ryan was having the effect on me that Gabriella once had. I felt amazing. I felt perfect.

_Uh-oh… You like him. Nice work, Bolton_, I thought, but continued the frenzied dancing lesson with Ryan. We actually began to chat a little while we danced. Apparently, Ryan liked one thing more than dancing and singing—baseball. This surprised me a little, but it was actually sort of cool. I was never very good at baseball, but always loved watching it. We talked about our favorite sports teams, songs, movies and teachers at East High. He gave me his opinions on the government and Britney Spears.

We always agreed.

Eventually, Chad plugged in his iPod and while the train of electro-pop stopped, it was replaced with other dance songs. I actually blushed at the harsh, but still smooth that voice screamed out of the speakers "_I want your… sex._" Ryan laughed at my scarlet cheeks, knowing it wasn't from dancing. His cheeks were pink too. He was flushed from dancing. I could see that he was sweating through his white button-up shirt and wondered how he could kick that high in those skinny jeans.

We danced on, our conversation fading away. Our movements were perfectly in sync. I guess Ryan had listened to as much David Bowie as I had because he knew every cue in _Let's Dance_. At the end of the song, as the male voice faded into the guitar and drumbeat, I looked around. Only Ryan and I were still dancing.

The room burst into loud applause.

I looked at the blonde again. His hair stuck to his forehead as his lungs heaved for air. His face was the same pink as his hat, but he seemed happy. He laughed a clapped as well, bowing once or twice as a joke.

He looked cute.

And I felt flawless in his presence.

Damn it.

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I spent several days mulling things over in my mind. I was, quite honestly, head over heels for Ryan Evans. This was quite… disturbing. I mean, I still liked girls, but now Ryan stood above all of them in his ivory-skinned glory. I tried to think back—had I ever liked a guy before? Yes. My first English teacher, a tall, dark haired man, was probably my first crush.

Now that I really looked at it, I'd always been a little… (I know this sounds creepy, but—) _ambidextrous_ sexuality wise. I'd never actually thought about it before, though, but it was true. I had always liked girls, but I'd always had a vague attraction towards some guys.

That took two weeks to sort out, yet now I write it; it only took one hundred and seventeen words. I can be really slow at times.

Anyway, despite the fact that I still thought many members of her sex were beautiful and that she herself was drop-dead gorgeous, I realized that I would really have to stop my relationship with Gabriella. Even though I still loved her, it wasn't the same. Ryan was the one that made me feel special now.

This was going to be tough…

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I had asked Gabriella to go out to see a movie with me on Saturday as a sort of "last date" thing, even though she didn't really know it was our last date. Anyway, after seeing the movie (_Balls of Glory_, very funny, but a little… "too much" in my opinion.) we went out to dinner and then decided to walk around the park a little.

It was pretty dark out so all the colors that were normally bright and vibrant were gray or blue. I looked over at Gabriella. Stunning, as always, but not in the same way as _him_. Her hand fit perfectly in my own as we walked, side by side, along the sidewalk. A perfect smile bloomed on her face as she looked up at the indigo sky, her hair shone and her tanned skin looked like the softest of silks. I watched her for a while as we walked, sort of hoping I was would fall back into the same love she had wrapped me in when we met last January.

But I couldn't.

I turned away from her, suddenly finding the bluish-green grass interesting.

"Gabriella," I said. It almost didn't sound like my voice, like I was lip-synching to someone else's words. "I want to talk to you about something."

"Okay," she said, her piping, bird-like voice always made me happy, even though I only really thought of her as a (beautiful) best friend now. "Let's sit on the swings! Come on, Wildcat—let's have a race!"

I laughed as she took off down the sidewalk and ran after her. She beat me though, and I fell once my foot hit the sand covered area that was the playground.

"Ow…" I groaned, getting up from my back-down, legs in the air position. Even better, the streetlights were on around the playground, so I was spotlighted. Rubbing my sore back, I sat on the swing beside Gabriella. She was laughing. I turned pink.

"Okay, okay," I laughed, swinging slightly but mostly keeping my feet planted on the ground. "It was funny, but I need to talk to you about something, something _serious_."

She stopped laughing but turned to me with a broad smile. "Shoot."

Suddenly I really wished I was more… _anything_ when under pressure in something other than basketball. It was like, once I really, really had to pass a quiz or test, my mind went blank and the answers flooded out of my brain; the moment I had to be articulate, immediately I became a stuttering idiot, incapable of words with more than one syllables.

I looked down at my sneakers and blushed even harder.

"I-I-I…" I spluttered. "I really love you, Gabi…"

"Oh my God, Troy!" she said, sounding blissfully happy. I looked up at her. Her eyes were filled with tears, her mouth pulled into a watery smile. "Yes!"

"Yes, what?" I asked, suddenly confused. Why did she look so happy?

"Are you—" she took a deep breath. "_Proposing_ to me?"

"What?" I sat up straight, shocked.

Her smile dimmed and her cheeks turned red. "A-aren't you?

"No!" I yelled. Oh geez. This made everything even harder. Of course, I didn't really make anything better by shouting but I was just so surprised. She turned away from me, clearly embarrassed.

"Gabriella," I placed a hand on her back. "I… think we should break up."

She spun back around. The tears falling down her cheeks weren't those of happiness. Her lip trembled.

"What?" she asked. Her face was the image of disbelief.

"I really, _really_ love you, Gabi," I said, looking at my clasped hands. "But… I've found someone who makes me feel really special."

"What?"

"You're beautiful; you're the image of perfection, but there's a person who I find… I don't know… _more so_…"

I went on rambling like this for fifteen more minutes. I don't even remember what I said. It basically awkwardly repeated myself as Gabriella looked at me, eyes full of incredulity and hurt. It was so hard. I know that sounds stupid, because it had to be so much harder for her, but I still felt so attached to her.

Finally, I ran out words and fell into silence, letting myself swing a little. I was still keeping my gaze on my hands, memorizing every line and crease, but I could feel her eyes on me. She was trying to read me the same way she read those Algebra and Chemistry equations—trying to add up my hanging head, slumped shoulders, shaking hands and horrible words in some logical manner.

"Who is it?" she asked, her voice cutting through the thick blanket of quiet.

"Who?" I asked, still examining my hands.

"Who makes you feel more special? Please look at me."

I paused, but brought my head up to meet her gaze. "Ryan," I whispered, getting lost in her warm brown eyes.

"R-Ryan?" she spluttered, she shook her head slightly but never stopped looking into my eyes. "Troy, are-are you _gay_?"

"I-I-I-"

_No. No, I'm not. I'm bi._ I wanted to say, but I couldn't speak for several minutes. I don't know why I couldn't, but when I thought about it from Gabriella's point of view… Wouldn't that just sound like a lie? She seemed to think so when I finally spat it out. She cocked one eyebrow and looked at the sandy area around the swing set.

"Troy, I…" she struggled to find the words, her long, delicate hands twisting around each other in her nervousness. "I love you. I always will love you. I… I probably will never stop loving you…" A few more fresh tears dribbled down her cheeks. "But—" she turned back towards me, took a deep breath and managed a smile. "I will do anything to help and make you happy."

I was stunned, frozen. Gabriella was a truly amazing person. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her swing closer to mine. Her shoulders jerked slightly and I could feel a damp spot spreading around my shoulder.

"You're my best friend," I said into her ear. She tilted up her head and gave me a (rather tear-sodden) kiss on the cheek, but I didn't blush this time. I just pushed her head into my chest and we rocked on the swings in the pool of yellow light, the only bit of real color in a sea of dark blue.

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**Poor Gabi! We all love you::hugs::**

**Please review!**

**-OFsI**


	5. Another Brick In the Wall

**Fickle**

Old Fiat

Yay! I'm so glad most of you guys loved the last chapter (for some it was their favorites!) and I loved all the feedback. I always love getting reviews.

Here are some stats on this story for you guys, by you guys!

_Hits:_ 717

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Whoop! I love you all!

Just so you guys know, I don't write slash that often. I mean, I usually write stories with hetero pairings and stuff. So, this will probably be one of the few slash stories I write. (However, I do write stories with ambiguous endings that can be pulled in any direction so… :D)

Enjoy!

Currently Listening: "Come Back To Me" and "Let's Dance" from Vanessa Hudgens' album, _V_.

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**Chapter 4: Another Brick In the Wall**

Gabriella and I sat like that for at least another fifteen minutes before she finally looked up at me again. Her face was puffy and her eyes red from crying. She still looked pretty though. I rubbed her back as she tried to steady her breathing.

"Troy, I…" she stood up and I fell off my swing. The sand fell upward stung my eyes but I brushed myself off. To my relief, she was giggling slightly. I wrapped my arm around her and, still blinking sand out of my eyes, led her back to the car.

When we were seated in the soft interior of the truck, she turned towards me. "Troy, you won't tell anyone that I though you were proposing anymore. It's already humiliating enough for you to leave me for a guy, but… Not that I don't support you or anything, but—" She was confused. I could tell. Gabriella always babbled like that when she felt confused. Confused, shocked or tired. At that moment, I thought she had to be all three, so I just smiled and put a finger to her lips.

"Your secrets are safe with me," I said. "Are mine safe you?"

She gave a small sigh of relief. "Yeah. As long as we're still friends."

"Forever," I held up my little finger and she hooked hers around it. A promise.

I suddenly remembered the last time I made that promise of friendship with anyone. That was back in… preschool? Kindergarten? It was with Chad. We had been friends ever since.

But even so, I really don't know what kind of weird brain-issue I had to be able to think, _"Hey, Gabi was okay with this, maybe Chad will be too."_ without realizing the second afterward that I had obviously gone insane. Whatever the issue was, it was big. I mean, I guess it kind of makes sense. As I said before, me and Chad had been best friends since preschool (maybe, I'm not certain). The longest fight we'd ever had was two months, and it was because he was going to be in Italy visiting family _all summer_. (He usually only stays two weeks or a month at most.) It didn't really matter that we were fighting anyways because he was on another continent.

Also, he was Ryan's friend. Maybe he could help me in… someway. Plus, I just can't keep secrets from Chad. He always knows when something's eating me and always can get it out of me. It'd just be easier to tell him now rather than have it forced out later.

So I told him (very uncomfortably) about my crush on Ryan. It was just as horrible, if not worse, as telling Gabriella, only Chad didn't say "What?" three hundred times. However he did let out a string of swear words, got up from the floor and collapsed on to his bed.

We were at his house—in his room, to be precise—and it was quite late in the evening. The sky outside the window was navy blue with a thin strip of pink around the horizon. We had been sitting around playing video games for several hours after work when Chad noticed how nervous I was. He paused the game and turned towards me.

"What's up, man?" he asked, pulling a Coke out of the mini-fridge. (!!! Chad's dad is a pretty successful lawyer so he has a lot of luxuries that are denied a person with a father who teaches.) "Usually you can beat me at pod racing in a second. Are you okay?"

I wasn't okay. I felt about read to throw up. I could've just smiled and said _'Yeah, I'm totally fine. Kind of tired though. Can I have a soda?'_, but no. My brain decides to say _what could happen? You've been friends since preschool (I think.). He'll always be there to support you. Through thick and thin._ So I opened my mouth and said the dreaded words:

"Chad, can I tell you about something?"

Oh! If only I hadn't said those words! If only I had gone with the smile-'I'm fine' routine and had it squeezed out later! But, unfortunately, the vibrations had already hit his eardrums. He shrugged and sipped his Coke.

"It's about why me and Gabi broke up."

Of course, the Wildcats had found out we had broken up the day after it happened. You can't keep secrets in such a big group, especially about relationships. No body knew why though. When asked, I got very vague and always said I had to go meet Fulton (manager of the country club) in the kitchen/welcome area and Gabriella just smiled slightly and said something about us wanting to see other people.

Chad sat up now. After a week of questioning, no one had been able to get the reason out of me, now he was getting it just for being there.

"What about it?" he asked, carefully studying my face. Chad carefully studies a lot of things, especially faces. I don't really know why, it's just something he does.

"We broke up because I like someone else," I said slowly. I kept repeating to myself _Chad will never hate you_,_ Chad will never hate you_, _Chad will never hate you_ in a kind of attempt to calm myself down.

"Who?"

I bit my tongue, hoping it would swell up so I couldn't speak.

It didn't.

"Ryan Evans," I said in almost a whisper.

This is where the stream of Danforth choice swear words came into the scene. I glanced nervously at the air vent next to Chad's desk and hoped his mom hadn't heard.

Chad stood up, I guess to pace, but his legs couldn't support his body at that moment so he fell on to the bed.

"Damn it…" he muttered, staring up at the plain white ceiling. I, however, glanced around at the red walls.

Me and Chad had painted his room together when his parents were out one day. Originally, they had been a pale blue, almost white, but we covered them with layers of scarlet. I seem to recall some more Danforth choice swear words being used by his mom when she came home, even though we'd covered everything in newspaper.

I was banned from the house for a whole week afterwards.

"Are you… _gay_?" he breathed, sitting up and looking down at me, carefully studying my face and posture.

I decided to do some careful studying of my own and looked at my hands. I'd been doing that a lot lately.

"No—" I stuttered. "I'm bi…"

But no matter what I said to Chad he didn't seem to believe me. He just ran his fingers through his hair and didn't really speak to me for the rest of the hour.

We decided to sleep at my house that night. (Rarely do I go over to Chad's house/him come to mine and it not end up in a sleep over.) My mom didn't especially mind and it was a pretty normal thing for us to do, but it was strange… When he suggested it, I thought, for a second, that I saw a mischievous glint in his eye.

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School started on August twentieth. I don't know why, but I always like school. I mean, I don't like being in class. Class is as boring as Hell (except English). But I just like being around people and saying 'hi' to them and not having to run and get golf balls for them. I've always like school. Most of the student body like me too because I'm the 'basketball junior all-star'.

Because they all like me so much, I was kind of confused not to be greeted on my second day of my senior year. I mean, they practically had a party on the first day where I was the king (I'd wanted to write about in my journal, but I couldn't find it anywhere in my room), yet on the twenty-first no one spoke to me. They whispered about me as I passed, but never said anything to me. They pushed to the sides of the halls, squishing against their bright red lockers so as not to touch me, as I passed.

Even the basketball team didn't speak to me. Well, they kind of did, they had to during morning practice and stuff, but it wasn't in the same way.

I was totally confused, until Gabriella came running up to me at lunch.

"T-Troy… Oh my God…" she looked terrified and glanced around the cafeteria. She turned back towards me. "It's… They… Someone…"

"Gabs, spit it out," I said cheerfully, giving her playful (and very light) punch on the shoulder.

"They know," she said, taking deep breaths. "About you… and Ryan. Someone told, Troy. I… Everyone knows…"

I just stood there as the first brick fell from the tower that was my reputation.

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**Omigod! Who told? Actually, I'd like everyone to answer that question: Who was the leak? Gabriella? Chad? Or was it someone else? **

**Please review!**

**-OFsI**

**(Ps, sorry if this chapter isn't all that great. I mean, I wanted to detail what was happening more at the school, but there wasn't much more to say…)**

**(Pps, for anyone who cares, Chad and Troy are playing **_**Star Wars: Podracing**_** or whatever that game is called when they're hanging out at Chad's.)**


	6. In Which I Spill Corn Chowder

**Fickle**

Old Fiat

Currently Listening: "Breaking Free" by Drew Seeley, Zac Efron and Vanessa Hudgens from the _High School Musical_ soundtrack and "Say OK" and "Loose Your Love" by Vanessa Hudgens from her album _V_.

Okay! I would've worked on this yesterday, but I was working on a one-shot (check it out, it's called _Chances: One In a Million_.) and that was rather time consuming.

Also I totally recommend the song "Loose Your Love" by Vanessa Hudgens. It is really cool and I might write a song fic off of it.

Enjoy the chapter!

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**Chapter 5: In Which I Spill Corn Chowder**

I continued to stand in the middle of the cafeteria, stunned, for several minutes, unable to move or think. It was like the rest of the world had frozen and then the fog had rolled in. My mind was blank. My grip on my lunch tray slackened and my food fell to the floor. The milk bounced along the tiles and I think some of the corn chowder was on my shoes, but I didn't feel it. I was numb.

I could sort of see Chad through my mental mist, sitting at the jock table and glancing over at me apprehensively. It looked like the expression I'd used back in third grade when I told his mom that he had set up at stand in the playground where he revealed the mysteries of sex. I had told his mom because I thought he was pedaling lies. (Don't laugh. My mom managed to keep a lot of things from me for a long time.) I think he got spanked, but I don't really remember. I just remember this anxious, worried feeling spreading over me, as Chad stood, shocked and angry, in front of his mother. But now the looked of nervousness on his face changed to one of satisfaction.

A light turned on in my mind and, slowly and sluggishly, a thought formed.

_Chad told._

More followed, each explaining what had happened to… me. And I couldn't deny them because I knew they were true.

I remembered that morning when I opened my locker; my journal and a piece of paper fell out. I had thought nothing of it at the time, assuming I left my journal in there the day before. I had stuck the paper in my pocket for reading later and forgotten about it.

_He took your journal when he stayed over a couple nights ago._

_He took it so he had proof._

I pulled myself out of my cloudy brain, reached into my pocket and took out the paper.

It was a photocopy of one of my journal entries, the one I'd written after his birthday party before I'd thought about being bi. Pasted on was also a mention of my crush on my first English teacher. I wondered if Chad stuck one in every locker in the school. If so, impressive.

I put the page back in my pocket and looked at my shoes. There was my corn chowder across the top. Lovely.

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I considered marching up the Chad and asking him why he'd done this, but I decided that probably wasn't the best idea. After all, what good would it do? He'd just go "Why shouldn't I have?" which I didn't want to deal with. After helping Gabriella pick up the food I'd dropped, I walked over to the jock table, squelching slightly—the corn chowder had somehow gotten into my shoes. I tapped him on the shoulder and he turned around.

"Hi Chad," I said, forcing myself to smile.

"Hey," he said, a little coldly.

"Can we talk?" I asked and a cheerleaders sitting at a near-by table burst into whispers.

"Yeah," he got up and we walked out of the cafeteria. I could feel the eyes of all the other students on me. I tried to ignore it along with the mutterings.

We walked in silence all the way to my secret hide out. (I won't describe it here. But I hang out there during breaks when I need a bit of silence.) I sat down on one of the benches and Chad leaned against the stair railing.

"You stole my journal, didn't you? And used it to tell everyone." I said, looking him directly in the eye. I tried to keep my expression stony and cold, but I don't know whether or not I succeeded.

"Yeah," he cocked his head to the side in some sort of pretend innocence. Cheeky, very cheeky. And I wasn't in the mood to take any cheekiness at that moment, especially from Chad.

I had sort of hoped he'd say "no" and deny everything, but there he was, nodding. My chest felt tight and no matter how hard I tried to get rid of the feeling, it stayed.

"Why would you tell everyone my secrets, Chad?" I found myself on my feet screaming the question. "We're supposed to be best friends—you know, like "brothers"? What happened to that?"

I know it sounds very girly, but it was the only way I could think of to say it. Most girls I know are a lot better than me at expressing emotions with words. Also, the only other way to say how angry and (as much as I hate the word) hurt I was with his actions was to hit him, and I didn't really feel like hitting Chad at that moment. I almost never feel like hitting anything actually.

Chad stepped forward. We were only two feet apart now. His face was now tense, his jaw set in anger. It was kind of scary. I hadn't seen him this angry since early that summer. (Don't ask.)

"I don't stay friends with guys who use girls as covers," he said, fury pounding through each syllable.

Woah! Where did that come from? What was Chad even talking about?

"What are you talking about?" I asked, trying to make my voice sound as mildly threatening as his, but it's hard to be threatening to someone who's two inches taller than you. Also I was more bewildered than angry with what he said.

"Gabriella," he said, giving me a look like I was the most disgusting thing he'd ever seen. "Or did you forget about her?"

Why was he talking about Gabriella now? Wait… did he think? He couldn't possibly believe I would do that!

"Are you suggesting I used Gabi to make people think I'm not gay?" I asked. I wished there was a shorter way to say that, but I couldn't think of one.

"Yeah!" he said, stepping forward again. We were so close now that I had to tilt my head up to meet his gaze.

"There are so many faults with that!" I said, getting angry again. "The first one being that I feel in love with Gabi the moment I saw her!"

That sounds really lame too, but I only realized that once it was out of my mouth. Chad appeared to think it was pretty weird as well because he rolled his eyes. I continued anyway.

"Second, I told you before that I'm bi! _Not gay_! There _is_ a difference!" Another roll of the eyes. Jerk. "And third, I would never do anything like that to any girl ever!"

He turned around and started walking down the stairs. About five steps down, he spun around and called back to me.

"A captain is supposed to be not only a leader, but a good example to his team. Do you think using women does that?"

And then he left.

I collapsed on to the bench again. He still didn't believe me. And now he thought I was a bad captain too. With one confession I lost not only a friend, but also a teammate. Now Chad was acting the 'brave knight' by rushing to Gabriella's defense even though Gabriella had actually believed me. _And _she promised we'd stay friends forever.

_Chad promised that too, and look at you two now,_ said the little voice in my mind.

Stupid brain.

It was then that I realized how gross that corn chowder felt against my feet and socks.

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**Sorry not a lot happened in this chapter. A lot will happen in the next one, I promise! There's a father-son argument coming up and you know how fun those are! Not very… But rather dramatic. And Troy also decides to make a rash decision, guess what it is in your review! Or just say anything in it. I don't care.**

**-OFsI**


	7. The Shot Heard Round the Locker Rooms

**Fickle**

Old Fiat

Currently Listening: "Drive" and "Rather Be With You" from _V_ by Vanessa Hudgens, "I Get Lonely" from _Another Side_ by Corbin Bleu and "The Sadder But Wiser Girl" by Robert Preston from the 1962 film _The Music Man_.

Oh my God, I'm retarded. I almost put _Fickles_ instead of _Fickle_ just now. God. Anyway, the beginning of this chapter was handwritten while driving to my sister's birthday party (On December first she turned eighteen. Woot!) so there maybe typos. Or there may not be as many. I dunno. Whatever. Let's get on with it.

A grand shout out goes to _iHeArTfAnFiCs_ for being the only person able to guess Troy's rash decision correctly. A couple of you come close, but no cigar. Anyway let's give her a hand::Brings out large neon sign that says _APPLAUSE_:: You're awesome, sweetheart!

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**Chapter Six: The Shot Heard Round the Locker Rooms**

The rest of the week went in the same way as my second day of school—ignored by all except Gabriella and the basketball team (the latter, only during practice.) and stared at and whispered about by the rest of the school. The talking behind my back and the rumors were probably the worst. Whispers followed me down the hallways, up stairwells and throughout the classrooms. It was kind of like being stalked by an army of very loud and nervous bees with the way everyone buzzed and flitted in and out of my way.

I guess the news had spread to the staff and teachers as well because by Wednesday my dad (who, as you know, is the coach) wasn't really talking to me unless _absolutely necessary_. He barely said anything around me except (at home) "Go to bed", "Pass the butter", and (at school) "Try feigning a pass and then dodging around Jason."

I think he probably told my mom too because she had broken her usual routine of asking me to wear a yarmulke to school (she may be reform, but very reluctantly) and preferring to send me weird, sideways looks.

By the following Friday, I just wanting to crawl under a rock and die—and that was in the morning, a time when I usually at my peak. I was going crazy. It wasn't that I was unpopular at school—at least, they hadn't torn down that poster of me in the hallway—but I wasn't exactly beloved either. I know that probably sounds stupid and it's probably what happens with most teenagers, but I'd never been in that niche. I was always either very popular, or totally ostracized (though I hadn't been disliked by such a large majority since first grade and that was because my mom decided to teach me Hebrew before English [as I said, she's barely reform. She could've at least gone for Yiddish. and so I couldn't really form a proper sentence until second grade, which _sucked_. Chad was always there though…). It was like the student body hadn't really decided what to do with me yet and had stuck me in a ditch where they threw the other students they couldn't figure out. Accept I got a bit more the "he's got the plague" treatment with a lot more talking behind my back.

On a usual Friday, I would've been up before either of my parents to avoid the yarmulke conversation and out the door, toast in hand, just as my dad was stumbling down the stairs. On a usual Friday I would have woken up with a chipper tune in my head and not a very emo sounding song like that Friday. Any other Friday would've galloped down the stairs, still humming the melody, instead of half fallen down them.

I thudded into the kitchen, a total, slightly stubbly, mess, and began to make myself breakfast. My mom sent me a slightly worried look before turning back towards the coffee maker.

I was, thankfully, out of the house before my dad got a chance to speak to/ignore me. It was a very narrow escape, though. I could hear him give my mom a grumbled "Good Morning" (unlike me, my dad is not a morning person) just as I was closing the front door.

To be honest, I wanted to talk to my dad as much as I wanted to talk to Chad—i.e., not a lot. I terrified what he would say or do. I mean, once I watched this show with my mom called _The War At Home_ (or maybe it was just _War At Home_, I don't remember.) about one of those dysfunctional families and there was this one gay kid who was a friend of one of the main characters and when he came out to his parents they kicked him out so he had to live with the main (dysfunctional) family until the mom or dad (or maybe it was neither, I'm not sure.) convinced his parents to take him back. And even though I knew it was just a stupid TV show that was cancelled pretty quickly, I couldn't help but wonder—what if my dad did that to me? Where would I go? What would I do? Would he ever take me back? Like, yeah, I'm bi, but we saw how many people believed that: one, Gabriella.

Anyway, I basically fudged my way through most of the day, as I'd been doing most of the week. I pretended to listen to the teacher, I guessed my way through a pop quiz and prayed the teachers wouldn't call on me to do anything. Luckily, they didn't.

I'd grown suddenly aware over the last couple of days of how many classes I shared with Ryan and the large percentage I spent of them staring at him. Of course, I always tried to make it subtle (only watching him out of the corner of my eye)—the last thing I needed was anyone to actually catch me in the act of openly staring at Ryan Evans, thus proving Chad's rumor/outing. Not that it wasn't already pretty much proven.

So the reason I bring up this particular Friday is because of what happened right before the after-school, varsity-only basketball practice in the locker rooms, so let's just go there.

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I walked in the boy's changing room and was greeted by the usual scent of sweat, steam and (I know this sounds weird but) towels. The rest of the team sat in a huddle in one of the closest little… off room things. (You'd have to see the layout of the locker rooms to properly understand, but there's this sort of hall that leads to my dad's office and then there are, on wither side, three rooms that come off the hallway which are lined in red lockers and benches. It's kind of confusing.)

I walked over to them and, when they didn't look up, gave a slight cough to get their attention. Chad was the first one to look up. He was off to the side of the group and looked very nervous. The rest of the guys stared up at me, a little threateningly.

"Hey," I said, my voice soft and not very captain-esque. "Aren't we going to go do some drills? Warm up a bit?" It sounded almost like I was begging. Begging to be allowed to pretend things were still the same.

No such luck.

"We want to talk to you, Troy," said Andy, a ginger-haired boy on the team who threw excellent passes.

I took a deep breath and spread out my arms.

"Go ahead," I said, letting them fall back to my sides. I may as well have shouted _shoot_ at a firing squad and placed my hand over my heart to help them aim.

"Say it, Chad," said Jason, a good player who was slow in the classroom.

Chad didn't look at me, but at his twiddling thumbs. Biting his lip, he whispered, "We've decided you shouldn't be on the team anymore."

I blinked several times, my heart pounded and my chest felt tight. I felt as if this had happened before. A horrible feeling of déjà vu spread throughout my body.

"What are you talking about?" I said, struggling to keep my voice steady.

"We don't think you're a good example for a captain. You know, with Gabriella and stuff," said Zeke; he sounded like he'd been told to say it, though. He didn't look at me either, but over my shoulder at another one of the little off-hallway rooms. Maybe I was just being hopeful. "And it'll wreck our reputation with West High if we have a gay captain."

I just stood there, speechless. I wondered if something like this might've been from a film or something. I dug through the memories of all the films, trying to find a scene that might match this moment. I couldn't recall a single one, so I continued to stand with my mouth hanging open. (Un)fortunately, Isaac (Andy's twin, very good player) decided to speak.

"Also it'll be totally creepy in the locker rooms."

And then I figured out where this had happened before.

"You're pulling a David thing, aren't you?" I said, looking at all of them, partially surprised, partially disgusted.

David was a boy who was one of the stars of the junior varsity basketball team during freshmen year. He was really nice, and probably would've made varsity with me in sophomore year if the infamous "David-Nick-Homecoming" incident hadn't happened. I wasn't actually at the dance (I was flunking Algebra at the time and my mom had made me stay home and study), but I'd heard about what happened. Apparently, he had arrived as an escort for his older sister, but had disappeared somewhere during the dance. Then she had gone looking for him so they could drive home and found him and Nick Petrov (I think he's now the captain-founder of the fashion club) making out in the boys' room. (Don't ask me how she got in there, as I said, I wasn't there.) Some of her friends followed her in and screamed, causing more people to flood into the bathroom.

He came out to the team a couple weeks later, but only after being subjected to the same popular-unpopular thing I was going through now for quite a while. The team forced him to quit. I know Chad defended him against them, but he couldn't do anything in the end.

I hadn't been at school during this either—flu. But I didn't exactly support him while he was being steadily more and more unaccepted. I don't know if he stayed with Nick or not, but I know he didn't leave the school. I still see him around, but he was pushed to the back of my mind because I felt so guilty for not standing by him. Now it all came rushing back, and I felt like throwing up.

I didn't know if most of the guys remembered what I was talking about, I could see Chad did. He wore the same sick-to-your-stomach expression that I did. I looked at all of them; half looked a little confused and the other half (excluding Chad and Zeke) nodded.

"You're going to make me quit because you can't actually kick me off just because you _think_ I'm gay? Like with David?"

The remembering half nodded instantly, making affirmative noises. The other half finally recalled the incident and joined in the nodding and chorus of 'yeahs.'

"Shit," I said, disregarding my dad's rule of 'No swearing on his "turf"'. "Shit, guys… I'm excited to see how much my team liked me." They looked a little nervous now. "

"You know what?" I said, my voice hot and sharp with fury. "You don't need to go through all the forcing you did with David. I'll quit right now, but let me say something in my defense. Just to make you think a bit—_if that's possible_.

"I actually loved Gabriella," I continued, my voice was cracking now and could actually feel a stinging sensation at the corners of my eyes. "And I still do, but as more of a friend now. If you guys actually saw the rest of that diary you'd see—in clear, clean writing—that I'm _bisexual_. As in, I like guys _and_ girls." They were all rolling their eyes and scoffing. "I really loved Gabriella, but feelings can change.

"However, in case you guys didn't notice, I nearly gave her up for you idiots. Half the time, I sacrifice my grades, my time and my girlfriend for this team—so now that I'm off the team, why don't you think about how much I do for you guys."

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the door at the end of hall open and my father walk out.

"Good luck this season," I said, my voice breaking again. I raised my hands as a sort of symbol of surrender. "I hope you all thought this through because I'm not going to come crawling back." Chad opened his mouth and I thought for a second he was going to ask me to stay. However, he didn't say anything, so I grabbed my stuff from my locker. As I slammed the door to the locker rooms closed, I saw my dad giving me a look of confusion and, even worse, disappointment.

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**Okay, so I didn't get to put in my grand Ryan mention or the father-son argument, mainly because I wanted to slow down the story a bit. (Plus I always visualized the father-son thing in chapter seven.) I hope you guys liked it though. **

**Again, a big hand for **_**iHeArTfAnFiCs**_** for being the one to guess Troy's rash decision: quitting the basketball team (albeit by request of the others.)**

**Please review! They make me write faster!**

**-OFsI**


	8. Of Confrontation, Drama and Dates

**Fickle**

Old Fiat

Currently Listening: All of Vanessa Hudgens' album _V_ and whatever was on my shuffle. When typing the last section I listened to "Drive" from _V_ on repeat. Does anyone actually read these things?

I apologize for this taking so long! I wrote it by hand and then typed it up, but both took a pretty long time. I'm wicked sorry. It's a pretty long chapter (4,178 words), so it kind of makes up for it. Right?

Enjoy!

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**Chapter Seven: Of Confrontation, Drama and Dates**

I didn't truly realize my new place in the society of East High until Monday.

Most of my weekend had been spent in my room (except when I went to temple with my mom) avoiding my parents and occasionally texting Gabriella. I turned up my music all the way and played it non-stop so my dad wouldn't come in—not only does he dislike most of my music (Moby, Augustana, some songs from musicals, some top-forty stuff and a lot of Ramones and Elton John. My dad likes the Beatles and surfer music, even though he was, like, just born when they became popular.), he doesn't like loud stuff either. I kind of hoped my mom would come in though. We're really close. I mean, while my dad can get me pumped up, my mom… she just makes me feel like I did a good job.

But she didn't come in, so I was left with nothing but the weekend, my cell phone and my iPod. I spent a lot of time relaxing, cooling down from the recent events. By Sunday night, things felt almost normal.

I didn't really know what to expect when I entered the school the next day. Insults, perhaps? Further gossip? Forgiveness (yeah right, like that'll happen this century.)? But nothing could've prepared me for what happened when I pushed the glass doors open.

Nothing.

I stood for a few moments, waiting for a 'hello' or some sort of reaction, but the rest of the students bustled through the hallways as though nothing had happened on Friday. No one began to whisper as I walked past, trying to reach my locker. No heads turned when I came in as they had last week. Nothing. Of course, I didn't really realize what they were doing until the end of science and then it clicked.

The crowd had finally figured out what to do with the "gay" ex-basketball varsity star: ignore him.

At lunch I wondered through the cafeteria after having had several hours of the invisible man treatment. It was getting quite tiresome. I looked around the enormous room until I spotted Gabriella. She was sitting by herself with her books spread out around her. This meant she hadn't finished her English homework the night before and, thus, did not want to sit with the rest of the scholastic decathlon team for fear that they would distract her.

I dropped into the sit next to her, placing my tray on the circular table. "Hey Gabs."

She looked up from her polka-dot notebook momentarily to flash me a quick smile. "Hi Troy." She bent down over the lined paper again.

"How's it going?" I asked as I ripped open my milk carton.

"Horrible," she said, flipping through the textbook. "I hate English."

I laughed and looked over her shoulder at her neat handwriting. "The freaky genius girl is having trouble with any school subject? That's hard to believe."

She gave a light chuckle and closed the thick, aqua volume. "I just wish it was logical—you know? Like science or something. But it's all about interpretation and there's no way to check your answers." She sighed and picked one of her tater tots off her tray. "I don't know if I'll ever get the hang of it."

We began chatting about the things that were or weren't confusing in school. I always like talking to Gabriella, even though we aren't going out anymore. It's always a soothing experience. I feel like Gabriella was some where in the corner of my mind even before I met her.

Anyway, I was so engrossed in our discussion of Mr. Beamer, the physics teacher, and whether or not he was a coma in human form that I didn't even notice the laws he taught were being tested near by.

On me.

"Oy Bolton!" a voice called from right behind me.

A weird gluey thing slid down my back as the gelatinous creation hit the back of my head and began sliding down my neck into my shirt. I turned around, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of pressure cause by the jell-o, and touched the back of my head to finger-comb out some of the snack. There stood Andy.

"Interesting greeting method," I said, whipping my hands on my napkin to get rid of the sticky of cherry-flavored liquid on my fingers.

Andy snorted. I wondered how I never noticed that his brain had to be the same size as a pea. "Matsui wants you in his office," he said and I watched as his eyes began to focus on Gabriella's chest. She noticed his gaze and shifted uneasily.

I rolled my eyes and picked up my backpack. "Did he just let you out?" I don't know why I was speaking to a former teammate this way. Maybe the jell-o had messed up my nervous system.

He chose to ignore my comment and, as I got up, sat down next to Gabriella.

I grabbed her wrist and pulled her up as gently as I could. "How about you come with me, Gabs?" I said, not looking at Andy. "Didn't you have some stuff you wanted to ask Mrs. Steel about?"

She gave me a grateful look and quickly gathered up her things. "Yeah, thanks for reminding me."

We left the cafeteria together as quickly as possible. The moment the large red doors swung closed behind us, Gabriella turned towards me and gave a deep sigh.

"Thank you so much Troy. That guy was so creepy."

I shrugged. "I don't want my best friend having to sit next to a git like that."

She smiled. "Why do you think Principal Matsui called you to his office."

"Extra curricular," I said, almost without thinking. "It's school policy that you have to be part of at least one club or something."

"Ah," she said, nodding. "I remember now. What'll you join?"

I rubbed my lips together and considered.

"I think I'll join the drama club," I decided after a moment of thought. "It's the only thing other than basketball that I'm really good at."

She gave a soft laugh and looked at her feet. "Also you get to be closer to Ryan…"

"I hadn't thought of that," I admitted, truthfully. Ryan had slipped from my mind momentarily, but now he was back and now I thought about it, drama club would bring me very close to him.

Speaking of him though, Ryan has somehow slipped to the back of this story. This is mostly because I was afraid to talk to him. I mean, he was watching me, staring at me—_all the time_. While this could be considered complimentary, it wasn't that kind of stare. He looks like he's considering me, calculating my movements. It's a very thoughtful look, but not one that shows any affection. He looked more like he's still figuring me out, trying to forge an opinion. Not complimentary, more awkward, especially since now he catches me attempting to watch him discretely in class.

My cheeks flushed the moment he walked back into my mind. Unfortunately, Gabriella noticed this.

"Troy, why don't you try and talk to Ryan?" she asked, a touch of laughter in her voice. "Maybe you could ask him out once you join the drama club and you could go for pizza at the OIP. I could go to if you wanted, just to make things less awkward."

I stopped outside the door to Principal Matisui's office. "Maybe, Gabs. I'll see you later, 'kay?"

"See you!" and with that, she turned away and set off to the English classroom.

My suspicion of the reasons I'd been called to the (usually) overly friendly principal's were correct. He wasn't very friendly to me though. Seeming anxious to get me in and out of his office, I was pushed out the door the second he'd handed me the paper were the drama club's meeting times were printed in bold letters.

I shook my head a couple times to try and clear it of the short, nervous administrator as the door slammed shut behind me. I glanced at my watch and realized I had ten minutes to get to class before all the other students poured into the hallways. I made quick stop at my locker and I ran straight to the classroom, arriving to meet Gabriella at the door, a second before the bell rang.

The door opened and about twenty or thirty freshmen thundered out as Gabriella and I slid past.

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After the lesson (a very confusing one about characterization), I saw Gabriella stop Ryan from leaving and began speaking to him. I momentarily wondered what she was doing, but decided it was nothing. Nothing that concerned me anyway. They're pretty close, why shouldn't they have a brief conversation after a truly mystifying lecture?

I waited for her by the doorway and watched them speak. I saw Gabriella's lips form the words 'I'll call you about it later.' Yes, nothing that concerned me. She was probably asking him to go shopping with her. They go shopping a lot.

I learned that my assumption of it not having to do with me were incorrect when the final bell rang the next day. There was an explosion of chatter as the students filed out of the classrooms. I was stuck behind Chad for several minutes as everyone tried to push their way out of the History room. My temperature rose as I glared at his afro and felt a sudden burst of loathing. I'd never felt that before as I looked at him. Well this was great, only two days of being ostracized and I was already starting to crazy.

Anyway, I cooled down a bit after I visited one of the water fountains and was nearly back to normal as I slammed my locker shut. I was about to leave the school and drive home when a large, pale hand grabbed my arm and pulled me into the boy's bathroom.

The hand let me go once I was in the tiled room and it took me a couple minutes to regain balance. After I had steadied myself, I looked at the figure in front of me, starting at the feet.

His polished black dress shoes gleamed under the florescent lights and almost melted into crisp black trousers. Tucked into the trousers was a bright fuchsia button up shirt with darker stripes. A white fedora was perfectly placed on top of his pale blonde hair and cast a strange shadow over his furious face.

It was Ryan. And a seriously angry Ryan at that.

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A silence so thick it could of caused suffocation filled the bathroom. I felt my face redden as Ryan continued to stand and stare at me, looking positively livid. I bit my lip and decided to cut the tension.

"Um, Ryan—?" I started. I was almost glad Ryan cut me off because my voice sounded so rough and awkward.

"What the hell are you doing?" he finally yelled. It was actually quite frightening. His words bounced off the tiles creating some kind of chaotic symphony. His hands clenched into such tight fists I was sure the skin over his knuckles would soon split.

"Huh?" I said stupidly.

"What the hell are you doing?" he was hissing his words now. Grabbing the collar of my shirt, he shoved me up against one of the ice-cold walls. (This was just as scary as being shouted at, despite the fact that I'm a little bit taller than Ryan.)

"I really don't know what you're talking about," I spluttered, digging through my mind for any reason Ryan might be so violently angry with me. Only two came up: (1) because I like him, and (2) because I joined the drama club. I went with the latter. "I only joined the drama club 'cause I needed an extra curricular, I—"

I realize now that I must look like an awful coward, but I'm not really. I was just under pressure and, as I stated in one of the earlier chapters, when I'm under pressure in anything other than basketball, I become… nothing. I'm not a coward, but I'm not particularly brave; I'm not spouting gibberish, but I'm not being totally articulate; and I'm not an idiot, but I'm not Einstein. I'm just there. It's awful.

Ryan cut me off in my partially coherent babble about why I joined the drama club.

"I'm not talking about that!" he said, clearly irritated with my blushing and rambling. "I'm talking about how you used a girl who loved you, broke up with her and then used her again to ask me out!"

"What?" Maybe I should start telling people to explain things in their entirety to me before confrontation. I had no idea what Ryan was talking about.

He proceeded to "spell things out" for me, venom dripping from each syllable.

Apparently, he was under the same bizarre delusion as Chad—that I had used Gabriella to cover up my "homosexuality" (i.e., Ryan also thought I was gay.)—and that I'd made her ask him to go out with me.

"I didn't tell her to do that!" I said, finally gathering enough courage to shove him away from me, which I suppose you shouldn't do to someone you have a very heavy crush on. I began straightening out my clothes as Ryan fixed his hat, which had been knocked sideways from the push. "I didn't even know that she had asked you!"

"Then why did she say, and I quote: 'how about you and Troy go out to the pizza place together? I might come along because Troy will probably be nervous'! Why?" he screamed, his voice getting shriller with each word out of his mouth. I blushed even harder, despite my anger. Why did Gabriella have to say that last sentence?

I looked directly into his gray blue eyes, trying to look as serious and deadly calm as I could while my cheeks burned their horrible pink.

"I'm going explain the whole thing to you right now, Ryan," I said, slowly and steadily. "I love Gabriella as a best friend. She's like my sister. I used to love her 'that way'—" I wiggled two fingers to signify quotation marks. "—but my feelings for her changed and now we are friends. And she's okay with that!" I paused and took a deep breath to stop my voice from getting too strident.

"Also, you were implying that I am gay," I said, putting a slight smirk on my lips. "I'm not. I'm bi." I was starting to get sick of saying this. I mean, how many more times would I have to say 'I'm not gay, I'm bi.'?

"As for her asking you out for me, I did Gabriella yesterday and I guess she decided to return it—_even though I didn't ask her to_," I stressed the last seven words just to try and get my point across.

_Not the best way to return the favor, Gabs,_ I thought, mildly annoyed.

"I'll ask Gabi," he said stiffly, not wanting to show that he'd given up, but the anger had seeped out of his face and he looked right back into my eyes.

"You know, she came over to my house after you two broke up," he said in almost a whisper. He snapped our eye contact by deciding his shoes were far more interesting. "She was really upset."

My cheeks flushed red and my stomach flopped around in guilt. Had I upset Gabriella that much by breaking up with her? Had she told Ryan I liked him before Chad told everyone?

"Did she tell you—" I started, but Ryan cut me off again, this time with a short nod. I suddenly felt very sick. "I really do like you," I whispered, thinking he wasn't paying attention, but he still heard me. I could tell by the way his eyes flew back up towards my face.

Even though I'm certain my head looked like a giant tomato with hair and facial features, the next words out of Ryan's mouth were steady and serious.

"Troy…" he began slowly. His voice mimicked the gaze he'd been giving me for weeks—measured and thoughtful—even though the look he was sending me right now was nervous and unsure. "I'm flattered that you hold this adoration for me, but I'm afraid I can't return your feelings."

I blinked. "What?"

"I don't like you that way," said Ryan, vaguely flapping his arms in his frustration. "You're a cool guy and everything but I like girls…" His voice trailed off. To my own surprise, I managed to remain standing after this heavy blow.

_He doesn't like you, he doesn't like you, he doesn't like you…_ I voice in my brain chanted teasingly. A lump rose in my throat and I forced it back down. I couldn't start crying. I wouldn't start crying. Regardless of the fact that I was no longer him, the basketball captain-reputation keeping trigger in my brain forced me to put on an impassive expression, even though my body suddenly felt like something was scratching it out the inside. My thoughts were clouded, my heart felt higher than usual and my legs felt like collapsing.

"Right," I said, my voice quiet, but even. It was no wonder I was pretty good in drama, my voice didn't even crack. "Well I'll just see you later then…" I turned to go, I couldn't stay in the same room as him. My expressionless mask was still on, but it was going to slip soon. Ryan grabbed my arm again, pulling me back towards him. In my limp, broken state, I couldn't fight his grip.

"I'd like to stay friends with you, Troy," he said, smiling slightly. "And, you know, if feelings develop, whatever, but for now… you know…"

I'd heard the 'let's just be friends' thing before, but this was the first time it sounded sincere, including when I said it to Gabriella. I smiled at Ryan and he smiled back.

"So… You're going with me and Gabs for pizza?" I asked and he nodded rapidly. (I don't think Ryan had any friends before this summer, but the story of those three months requires its own novel for explanation.) "Do you know when we're going?"

He laughed. He has a fabulous laugh.

"Thursday, noon."

I nodded. This made since. On Thursday the school was going to be closed due to the teachers… having meetings or something.

"Thanks," I said and we exited the bathroom together.

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The rest of my Tuesday was spent rather happily and on Wednesday I was welcomed into the drama club with open arms. I began sitting at their table in the cafeteria (of course visiting Gabriella at the scholastic decathlon's table beforehand) and found out that Mrs. Darbus was planning on doing _The Phantom of the Opera_ this year. (That was an a great piece of news, since I knew how pissed Chad would be to see the posters for the casting calls and performances around the school. I don't mind the musical too much myself, but I'd rather not play the phantom… Stop. I'm rambling. Sorry.) By the end of the day I was practically skipping. I hadn't had a day this good since last summer.

On Wednesday evening, however, everything changed with five simple words. (Well, actually four, but whatever.)

I was lying on my bed, having just finished my homework, and was going over my options of what to do next, when my dad came in. I could tell he wasn't pleased to see me sprawled across the bed, plugged into my iPod.

"Troy," he said the moment he stepped into the threshold. "We need to talk."

A strange sensation filled my body when my mind registered these words. I felt like my rib cage had suddenly shrunk so that it was too tight for my lungs and my hands began to shake. An icy feeling spread throughout my nervous system, making it difficult to think or do anything except try and breathe.

"Okay," I said, my voice shaking as much as my hands. My dad made a gesture for me to get up. I fumbled with my iPod and once it was turned off, I followed him to his office.

My dad doesn't spend much time in his office. He usually only uses it for figuring out his taxes and working on formations for the basketball team. It was small, warm and smelled slightly of rubber. It was also incredibly cozy. The walls were a soft cream color, could barely see the paint through the layers of photographs that were plastered over them. They ranged from childhood pictures of my dad and his older brother to photos of the varsity team after the championship game last year and beyond. There was a large wooden desk and whiteboard near the window. The desk was coated with papers and notes, a few falling off the maple surface onto the spinning, cushy chair nearby. Pushed up against the opposite wall was an ancient dark green couch with bamboo stalks printed on it. I used to find that couch very comforting because it smelled like Old Spice but as I sat on it that day it seemed terrifying.

"What did you want to talk about?" I asked, even though I knew.

He sat down beside me and took a deep breath. I began picturing what my life on the streets would be like. I could see it clearly—a dark, snowy night, in a dark ally between two buildings sat me, wrapped in a worn blanket. I was shivering from the cold, my body dirty and skinny. I reached out towards a young woman in a dark suit, my voice barely more than a whisper as I croaked "_Got any spare change for a boy whose own father didn't want him?_"

I was pulled out of my bizarre daydream by my dad's voice.

"Troy," he said, still struggling for the words to express what he wanted to say. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," I said automatically. Turning towards him, I saw he didn't look angry but very nervous.

"Then why didn't you tell me you were… you know…" The next words out of his mouth sent shock waves straight to my core. "I would've supported you."

"What?" I breathed.

He looked at my, a funny, slightly confused sideways smile on his face. "Why wouldn't I?"

I had no idea. Really. I had no idea why he wouldn't. I should've given my father more credit. I ought to have known he would always me there for me, whether he thought I was gay, bi or mildly retarded. All the tension that had had my muscles taught before drained out and I found myself laughing with relief.

"I have no idea," I said softly, leaning back and examining the ceiling. "I guess I thought you'd be angry or disappointed or something."

"Well I'm not overjoyed," he acknowledged with a shrug. "But I'm not going to start telling you to pack your bags and leave."

It's strange how perfectly my dad can read my mind sometimes.

I laughed. "Of course not."

After I had finally started breathing normally again, my dad asked me why I had quit the basketball team, so I did, managing to explain everything including the David-Nick-Homecoming thing. When I'd talked myself into silence, my dad spoke again.

"I'm really angry at those boys right now," he said, a slight growl in his voice. "Listen, you can rejoin the team if you want—"

I shook my head. "I don't want to be on a team with them if that's how they think of me." _Especially Chad,_ I thought, but decided not to say since I'd heard that he had been voted captain.

He smiled, understanding, but his expression quickly changed to one of seriousness.

"I'm not happy about the way you used that Gabriella girl, though," he said, lowering his brow. "It was very wrong of you.

So, even though it feels strange to write, I elucidated again my feelings for Gabriella and my sexuality, highly doubting he would believe any of it. But he did. And afterwards he patted me on the shoulder and said, "If it makes you happy." Then he left the room, probably to relate the conversation to my mom.

The next day I jogged down the stairs, already cleaned up and ready for my "date" with Gabriella and Ryan. As I sat down to eat a quick breakfast I felt something being pressed to the back of my head and a soft _click_. I turned around and saw my mom, already dressed for work. Her mouth was curled into a smile.

I touched the back of my head and felt my yarmulke. Why does she do this? It's not even Saturday…

"Wear it," she said. In less than a second an unspoken conversation passed between my mother and I. I smiled back at her and, for once, chose not to object.

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**Yar! (Sorry, recently saw **_**Pirates of the Caribbean 3**_** again. That movie is totally awesome.) I am **_**so sorry**_** that this chapter took so long! For some reason I couldn't write it on the computer (not because it was broken, just because I… couldn't. I dunno.) and it took me a while to type it up. I am so sorry, but, hey! It's a REALLY long chapter, so it's worth the wait.**

**Or maybe it isn't.**

**Anyway, I just want to say that the bamboo couch in Mr. Bolton's office is based on a real couch. I am serious. Only ours didn't smell like Old Spice (I love Old Spice. It actually works… ::grumbles::.), it smelled like dust. Anyway—yeah. **

**Also Gabriella mentions a place called the OIP (**_**O**_**riginal **_**I**_**talian **_**P**_**izza). This is, like, the best pizza joint ever, but I don't know if there are actually any in Albuquerque. There were two where we used to live in Pennsylvania, though. They were **_**fabulous**_

**Please review!**

**-OFsI**


	9. Poor Unfortunate Souls

**Fickle**

Old Fiat

Currently Listening: "Unreachable" by Ashlee Simpson from her album _Autobiography_. I know, I know—Ashlee Simpson, how lame of me. But I recently found this CD in my room (I bought it a couple years ago and kind of liked it then) and decided to listen to it. It's actually pretty good. Well, I like it anyway. C:

Enjoy the chapter! I just got back from the eye doctor (my eyes still sting from that damn dye) so I apologize about any typos caused my pained eyes. (I always have an excuse for my typos, don't I…) Also not much happens in this chapter… Oh well.

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**Chapter Eight: Poor Unfortunate Souls**

I had to make a quick stop at the grocery store before my "date" with Ryan, which meant I was out of the house by ten. I backed my nearly dead truck out of the driveway and sped along the road to Maureen and Tom's. Allowing my mind to wander, I turned up the radio and let the music pour out of my crappy speakers.

"_Well it's a big, big city an it's always the same. Can never be too pretty. Tell me your name…_"

_How could I have been so stupid?_ The question that had been shoved to the back of my mind for several days suddenly rushed to the front, repeating over and over in my head. I tried to push it back down but it came up again, bobbing up and down in my liquid thoughts to the beat of the song.

"_I know I may be a downer, I'm still ready to dream…"_

How _could_ I have been so stupid? Why did I just assume that Ryan would like me back? Sure, I had been too distracted by my whirling emotions to have time to really think about him liking me back, but seriously. My crush examination test needed to be edited. I quickly added to it:

4.) _Try and find out if they like you back_

"_So if you're lonely, why'd you say you're not lonely? Oh you're a silly girl…_"

I mean, even in straight crushes, what are the chances of the object of your… desire liking you back? Like one in a million. Seriously. And then with… yeah… It had to be even less.

"_And I must confess, my heart's in broken pieces and my head's a mess…_"

This applied. As much a liked the idea of being friends with Ryan, it still hurt to be rejected. I know this has to sound stupid and arrogant, but I'd never really been denied when asking someone out. Like, all of my relationships (excluding my one with Gabriella) ended in me being dumped because I was too loyal or because I… erm… refused to do _it_ or something. I'm serious, every single girl (excluding Gabriella). It sucks. I'm, like, the only guy on the basketball team who's a… yeah. I just don't want to do that yet. Not that I've not been tempted—severely. I just… yeah.

Anyway, I'd never been refused when asking someone out. It hurt a lot.

"_And it's you, woo-hoo, that's got me going crazy for the things you do…_"

I parked in front of the grocers and tried to sort myself out before I went inside.

I couldn't spoil my friendship with Ryan, even though I wanted more. It wouldn't be right. I mean he said that whole 'if feelings develop we can give it a go' speech and I should just forget about all my past… thingness and trust in that. If something happened, it would happen. We were friends.

I turned the key and cut the man singing off in the middle of his whistling. Taking off my yarmulke and stuffing it in my pocket, I slammed the door closed and locked it. As I walked through the automatic doors I realized with a pang I was feeling exactly what Gabriella had felt in late August.

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After driving home with the multiple shopping bags, I replaced my yarmulke, brought them into the house and drove the OIP. I sped up considerably when I looked at my watch and became conscious of the fact that I was fifteen minutes late. I probably shouldn't have spent as long as I did in the grocery store.

I stopped outside a small brick building with large windows and a white sign painted with the letters _**O**__riginal __**I**__talian__** P**__izza_. I jumped out, shut the door and ran in.

It was warm and stuffy inside and smelled heavily of tomato and dough. I winked at the girl behind the counter (she blushed instantly and dropped the phone she'd been speaking into.) before looking around the restaurant for Gabriella and Ryan.

There were a lot of other people in the room, their conversations creating a pleasant buzz. I saw Jason, Zeke, Andy and a couple of the other members of the basketball team sitting at one of the tables. I watched them as Zeke miming throwing a shot, earning several cheers from the other boys. I looked away and caught sight of a group of cheerleaders who were also staring at them. Actually, a lot of East High students were there. Why shouldn't they be? There was no school that day and the OIP had the best pizza.

I caught sight of Gabriella and Ryan in a booth by one of the windows—Ryan was miming something involving a mustache and Gabriella was laughing hysterically. I began to head over to them, passing the basketball team's table as I went. One of them, a Eurasian-looking guy who I had seen before from the second string, stuck out his leg as I walked by. I tripped, nearly falling flat on my front but caught myself at the last second, and spun around to face them. Guessing by their laughter I was now not only to be ignored, but teased as well. Lovely. I wondered for a second what my idiotic nickname would be until I noticed that Chad wasn't with them. (Despite what you may think, Chad doesn't hate pizza because his mom makes it a lot, in fact, this only encourages his love of them food.)

Before I could ask about this though, one of the waitresses had come over and begun reprimanding them, apologizing to me as well. I waved it off and sat down beside Gabriella in the booth.

"Hey guys," I said, pulling off my coat and letting it rest between me and the pleather seat. "Sorry I'm late."

Gabriella shrugged. "It's cool."

Ryan smiled. "Yup. I was just telling Gabriella about my granddad and his war stories."

I laughed and watched Ryan as he launched into a rant about his mildly insane grandparent. He was wearing the same shiny black shoes he'd been wearing on Tuesday, but he was dressed in (slightly) more casual clothes now: khaki trousers and a black button-up with short sleeves. He was, of course, wearing a hat, but this time it was just a simple red newsboy. No sparkles, no glitter. I was a little surprised, but he (to my immense discomfort) still looked very good.

I thought back to when he was yelling at me. He had looked very handsome then too, but in a more… (blonde) Mr. Darcy way. I know I said I'm not into romantic stuff, but I do really like _Pride and Prejudice_. It's probably my favorite book, actually, even though I try to keep my shelves stocked with… anything not-girly. I mean, it's well written and Kiera Knightly is _hot_, so I have some kind of excuse. (Even though I read it before the film came out…)

Sorry for rambling. Anyway, I was thinking about this when I suddenly realized Ryan was speaking to me.

"…weird?" he said, finishing his question and taking a sip of coke.

"Huh?" I said, without thinking. I looked around the restaurant. "Where's the waitress?"

Gabriella gave me a funny look. "Nice one, space cadet. She hasn't come yet."

"Oh," I said sheepishly. "What were you asking me, Ryan?"

He shook his head to try and disguise a laugh. "Nothing, it doesn't matter. Hey," he looked at me, head cocked slightly to the side. "Why are you wearing a yarmulke? It's not even Saturday or anything."

I jumped and pulled it off, blushing. "My mom's kind of weird…" I muttered, slipping it into my pocket just as the waitress came over.

"Leave it on," she said with a wink in my direction. "It looks cute."

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Nothing much happened the rest of the week. At school on Friday I was ignored, taunted, etc. It was an interesting position to be in. In my role as basketball captain, I was trapped with the same groups of people, even after Gabriella and I "broke free" (ha ha) from the clique thing, it didn't mean I had begun to mingle with the people who always stood on the sides of the hallways, whose heads were dunked in the toilets more than once a day and spoke to no one but their cats. (Not that I was at that point. No one had attempted to stick my head in the toilets or anything because, in spite of my new position as the school fag, they all knew that I could [maybe take them on. Also I'm allergic to animal dander so… no cats for me.) It was a new experience.

That weekend my dad refused to let me sit around in my room listening to music and dragged me outside to play a bit of basketball so I could "stay on my toes." I suppose this was a good idea, at least I would be able to shove anyone who _did_ try and dunk my head in the toilet very hard against a wall, but then things went wrong.

We played a one-on-one game for forty-five minutes on the mini-court my dad got put in the back. I was in the lead (but not by much) when we heard the gate on the fence around I property slam shut.

"Coach?" said a smooth, familiar voice. I turned around to see Chad, Jason, Zeke and nameless Eurasian boy crossing the lawn to the basketball court. I froze, the rough, rubber ball still held tight in my sweaty hands.

"What are you boys doing here?" asked my dad, placing his hands on his hips and bringing up his chest in the way he does when talking to someone but he's still seriously worn out from playing.

"You said we could come over to work on our formations," said Eurasian boy with a smile. He seemed like he would be friendly, if I were a… friend. But, of course, I wasn't.

But you knew that.

"Oh—oh yeah… You're right!" said my dad, smacking himself lightly on the forehead. He looked at me apologetically. "You don't mind, do you Troy?"

"Of course not," I said as cheerfully as I could when confronted with the fact that my dad was going to play ball with people who would've left me in the street if I'd been hit by a car. I smiled at them. "Bye guys!" I tossed the ball to Jason, who caught it. Three of the four gave soft snorts at what I said.

_Hive mind,_ I thought and then gave my head a slight shake. I needed to start talking more to people who _weren't_ Gabriella.

"Bye," I said and jogged off. It suddenly occurred to me that Chad hadn't snorted or smirked at me. In fact, he didn't even look at me, deciding his shoelaces were far more interesting.

Of course, they probably were.

Anyway, on Monday there was an extra long gym class due to the fact that Coach Warner (also known as the only teacher who called me faggot, queer, or queer-ass Jew-boy) would be away on Friday to go in surgery. I hoped it would be a brain transplant, but, unfortunately, it was a… guts… thing… Anyway! Fortunately (for me at least because it's my worst subject), we got out of science for the day. But still, an extra hour of being ridiculed by a man who thought you were the best student ever last year wasn't going to be fun.

My prediction was correct.

Jogged around the track as my mental stereo played "Rockaway Beach". I was on my third and final lap. I could see Ryan on the opposite side, about halfway done with his second. Gabriella was farther behind, just beginning her second lap and already slowing down. Not that there's anything wrong with the fact that she and Ryan are both barely passing PE, but it's pretty weird. Especially since Ryan can dance for hours on a stage lit with burning spotlights and… no… No, Gabriella could run when absolutely, terrifyingly necessary, but no other time.

I passed over the finish line and sat down beside Chad on one of the benches surrounding the track, mostly because my other choice was to sit next to Coach Warner and be taunted by someone who I probably couldn't take in a fight or the track team who… probably didn't want me next to them. Chad probably didn't either, which made the seating arrangement all the better.

He stared blankly at the runners, his elbows propped on his splayed thighs and his hands hanging loosely in between his legs as I carefully placed myself beside him. His lips were slightly parted as he took short, sharp breaths.

"Troy," he whispered so softly I first I thought I'd imagined it. "_Troy_!"

I followed his lead and continued to watch the other students.

"What?" I whispered, watching Gabriella as her pace slowed to a half-hearted jog.

But he said nothing more because Andy had just arrived. The redhead pushed me harshly off the bench so I landed hard on the grass. Chad said nothing about what he had just done and neither did Coach Warner. Coach Warner was too busy chewing out the other students and Chad was too busy being the "cool captain".

I did wonder why Chad had whispered to me though. It was… intriguing. Chad had outed me (albeit for the wrong thing) and told me I was a bad example of a captain. He looked slightly guilty as he chatted with the rest of the team and frequently glanced over at me as I chatted to Ryan and (very later on) Gabriella.

The torture of the nervous glances and screamed insults ended soon afterwards—thank God. I couldn't have withstood one more minute of it.

So I stood in the locker rooms—having just finished my shower—with a towel wrapped around my waist and began changing back into my clothes. I hummed under my breath as Chad began toweling off his hair near-by. Suddenly a loud bang resonated through the locker rooms. My head snapped right, in the direction of the sound, and Chad turned as well. I could hear loud, cruel sounding laughter but my legs wouldn't move. I just listened. Chad twinned my frozen position, his head turned towards the right, his legs stiff, his knees buckled.

"Stop it!" someone shouted weakly.

That voice triggered something in my mind. It was Ryan. They were hurting Ryan. Who 'they' were, I didn't know, but they were hurting him. My presented a plan to me, a distraction, something to get them away from Ryan.

_Make yourself a spectacle._

I dug through my brain for a reasonably girly song and one floated up to the surface of my memory. It was a song I sang until my dad had to scream at me 'that I was a boy, not a girl and thus should not sing a song written for a girl'. I took a deep breath, switched off my reputation-saving gear inside my head (not that there was much to save), and opened my mouth to sing.

"_Look at this stuff. Isn't it neat? Wouldn't you think my collection's complete? Would you think I'm a girl, the girl who has everything?_"

Chad turned towards me with a perfect "what-the-hell-are-you-doing" expression his face. I grinned back and sang louder, trying to attract the attention of all the boys in the locker room.

"_Look at this trove, treasures untold. How many wonders can one cavern hold? Looking around here you'd think 'Sure, she's got everything.'_"

I'd gotten most of their eyes on me now. I raised my voice, my falsetto cracking slightly.

"_I've got gadgets and gizmos aplenty. I've got whozits and whatzits galore. You want thingamabobs? I've got twenty,_" I heard the laughter stop in one of the other sections of the locker rooms. I grabbed Chad's hand and acted like he was Flounder. He gave a horrified expression in return. "_But who cares? No big deal. I want more!_"

There was a thick silence spreading over the room as I spread my arms and found myself getting just as into the act as I did when I was little.

"_I wanna be where the people are. I wanna see, wanna see 'em dancing. Walking around on those—whatd'ya call 'em?_" I flicked Chad on the nose and gave a high-pitched giggle. "_Oh, _feet"

I continued to sing, twirling occasionally, until two burly boys from the hockey team pounded in, dragging Ryan with them in a head. It took most of the song for them to turn up, which surprised me slightly, but I did my best not to show it. I smiled at them in as girlish a way as possible. The one who was holding Ryan dropped him in shock.

"_When's it my turn? Wouldn't I love, love to explore that shore above. Out of the sea… Wish I could be… Part of that world,_" I looked at Chad in such a sincere look of sadness that he suddenly looked unsure of whether to comfort me or continue to stare at me with an appalled expression on his face. I noticed Ryan had slipped away sometime during that last chorus. Good for him.

"Can I help you?" I asked the pair, suddenly dropping back into my normal voice. They continued to just stand and stare at me like the rest of the locker room. I shrugged, finished getting dressed and left.

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**So there you go. I had to include the bit with **_**The Little Mermaid**_**. I'm sorry, I love that song too much, plus I just re-watched that movie yesterday and was like 'I totally forgot how much I love this movie!' Anyway. Here are credits for all the songs I mentioned in good and proper order:**

-_The chapter title:_ "Poor Unfortunate Souls" by Pat Carroll (Ursula) from _The Little Mermaid_

-_In the car to the grocery store:_ "Whistle for the Choir" by the Fratellis

-_Running around the track in PE:_ "Rockaway Beach" by the Ramones

-_In the locker rooms:_ "Part of Your World" by Jodi Benson (Ariel) from _The Little Mermaid_.

**There you go! I just want to ask my readers: what's on your shuffle or in your CD collection or something? Just curious. Mine is mostly show tunes, pop, pop-rock, pop-punk and Disney pop/Princess songs.**

**Please review!**

**-OFsI**


	10. Raoul

**Fickle**

Old Fiat

Currently Listening: The _Wicked_ original Broadway cast recording. I love it! OFnFR got it for Christmas. :D It is totally bitchin'! Also the soundtrack for _Music and Lyrics_ (especially the Cora songs. They are such fabulous Britney parodies!!).

Argh! It's taken me SO LONG! I'm so sorry! I had finals and then we had to pack up the house and then we had to drive out to California for the holidays. It was worth it though. I love CA.

I hope you all had great holidays! Happy New Year!

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**Chapter 9: Raoul**

I didn't get to talk to Ryan for the rest of the day. I think he was avoiding me, embossed by the fact that I saved his ass. Anyway, I spent most of the day with Gabriella, which is always fun. But I had sort of hoped that Ryan would be all grateful and stuff, but I guess that's not his thing which makes sense really. I mean, would you go all "Thank you so much!" to some guy who rescued you from having your head bashed in by a metal door, thus making you seem _really _desperate? I _don't _think so.

When I got home the house was empty. This wasn't really a surprise—mom is a lawyer and dad often has to stay late at the school to finish his paper work and stuff—but I had sort of wanted to recount my "Part of Your World" incident to someone. Gabriella had been told by Ryan at some point (I honestly don't know when…) and I don't really talk to anyone else so… yeah.

But I got home, put together a sandwich and went to my room to do my homework. It sort of sucks having nothing to do besides homework when you get home. I wished the _Phantom of the Opera_ song book I told the book store to order would come in. Then I could procrastinate by memorizing the songs. Anyway, I spent a couple hours doing my homework until the phone rang.

I nearly fell out of my chair as I thundered down the carpeted stairs to the kitchen where the cordless phone sat in its cradle. I picked it up and said into the mouthpiece "Hello?"

"Hi, this is Ryan. Is this Troy?"

I chose not to mention what happened in the locker room so as not to wound his pride. "Yeah, what's up?"

"No much, I was wondering if you wanted to come over to my house tomorrow after school."

My heart pounded hard against my chest and my cheeks turned a fiery shade of scarlet. I don't know why I reacted like a big celebrity, like Michael Jordan or somebody had asked me to go to their home but still, the only thought pounding through my head was _Am I awake?_ Right now I'm writing this thinking _LAME!_ might as well have been painted across my forehead, but… yeah.

I gripped the counter the way Gabriella does when her dad calls so she won't collapse from excitement/shock and steadied my voice.

"What for?" I asked. I really was genuinely curious. Why would Ryan want me over at his house?

"I have a copy of the script for _The Phantom of the Opera_ at my house and I was thinking you could come over and we could practice it or something."

I resisted the urge to ask why Ryan had a copy of the script for it before Ms. Darbus had given them out. "So we're definitely doing that? Because I'm having the book store order the song book for me and if it turned out we were doing something else I was going to give it to you for you and Sharpay to use."

Ryan gave one of his strangely unique laughs, all soft and breathy. "I have a copy, but do you want to come over then?"

"Sure thing," I said, grinning. "Who is going to practice as who? Can I be Raoul?"

"_Raoul_?" he scoffed. "Oh you can have him. Wouldn't you rather play the Phantom?"

"No," I shrugged. "He has to wear about a ton of stage make up."

He laughed. "See you."

"Bye," I said and hung up.

----------

I think probably the best word to describe what I felt when I pulled into the Evan's driveway behind Ryan's car is _overwhelmed_. A huge house towered over me as I slammed the truck door shut and followed Ryan up to the front door. I mean, I live in a nice neighborhood, but "Woodshore", the gated community slightly outside of the suburbs of Albuquerque, looked like, I dunno… Stepford or something. I could see as we drove in some of the other families in the neighborhood, most with small, weirdly perfect looking children, and their manor-like homes. One woman I saw would've looked identical to Mrs. Evans except she had brown hair and her husband looked like something out of a fifties film, including his hairstyle and suit.

_Weird. Very weird,_ I thought, but didn't say it so as not to be rude.

I had actually asked Gabriella if she would come with me but she had just said that she probably wasn't auditioning for this semester's performance. Having her with me probably would've melted a bit of my icy shock at the immense… _hugeness_ of the Evans' home. Heck, even the ice queen Sharpay's presence would've been able to calm me down.

But that would only be if she was speaking to me outside the drama club, which she wasn't.

Or maybe she was, because when Ryan and I entered the house, she ran down the steps in greeting and immediately ordered us to follow her down into the basement.

"Shar…" Ryan moaned. "Can't we eat something first?"

"No," she said and gave him an angry look. "I'm still angry at you."

"I don't get why you're angry," he said. "Troy said that he wanted to play Raoul!"

"Because _you_ convinced him!"

"Why would I do that?"

"Ugh!" she scoffed. "Everyone knows that you've wanted to play the Phantom since you were born!"

"Which is why I should play him! I know the part better than Troy!"

Sharpay was about to say something when I decided I was really sick of the sibling bickering and cut in.

"Sharpay, I actually want to play Raoul," I said with a slight smile.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Sure." But she gave it up and we headed downstairs.

The Evans' basement was separated into two parts. I think one-third of it was a storage space and the other part was almost completely empty except for two small armchairs, a miniature TV, a baby grand piano (plus bench) and a CD play which was hooked up to four large speakers hung on each upper corners of the room. Mirrors lined the room and the floor was made of formerly smooth wood (no longer so from what I suspect were many years of tap dancing). Against the wall farthest from the door was a platform to practice choreography.

We practiced for several hours until my cell phone began to vibrate in my pocket, signifying a call from my mom to tell me to come home. I'd told my dad that I wouldn't be home by dinnertime and that they should eat without me, but eleven is really my mom's limit for me staying out (fairly early compared to some of my friends, but she's partially mental as I said before.) and it was about eleven forty-five when I arrived home.

Ryan helped me get my jacket out from the visitor's closet. "Troy, do you know if Gabriella is going to audition?"

"She said she probably wouldn't," I said, pulling my car keys out of my pocket to make sure I hadn't dropped them. "Why? Does Sharpay want her to play some supporting woman or something?"

"I don't know if she does or not," he said, leaning against the open closet door. "I was just wondering."

"Well, I'll see you later, Ryan," I smiled at him and headed outside. I was nearly at my truck when Ryan called after me.

"Hey, Troy!" he caught up with me as I pulled open the rusty door.

"Yeah?"

"Um, Sharpay is having a party next Saturday and we were wondering if you wanted to come? Gabriella is going to be there too along with a couple members of the drama club."

"Sure," I said and slid onto the worn seat. "See you later."

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**Wow, absolutely nothing happened in this chapter. And it was really short. I'm really sorry. I'll make sure a lot happens in the next chapter and that it's longer. **

**Please go to my YouTube page (the link is in my profile) and watch some of my music videos. Almost all of them are HSM ones and I recently put up a wicked funny parody-type thing. **

**Please go there! I'll also be putting up a trailer for **_**Fickle**_** soon so… Yeah. Please review and go to my YouTube page!**

**-OFsI**


	11. Fruit Punch!

**Fickle**

Old Fiat

Currently Watching: _About a Boy_. This is one of my favorite movies. I love it so much!

Ugh… I don't feel very good right now, so I'm typing this up. Anyway, this chapter is really more of Chapter Nine: Continued or something and they probably should've been posted together but, whatever…

Enjoy!

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**Chapter Ten: "Fruit Punch!"**

I didn't really know what to expect of Sharpay's party. The way Ryan had described it made me picture the small-big kind of parties that my parents held for New Years but with younger people.

I just wore my favorite pair of jeans, an old white t-shirt, and my USC hoodie (a present from my surfer-type uncle), assuming it would be just a small get together for the drama club and a few of their friends. What more _could_ it be, right?

After promising my mom that I'd be home before 1:00 (which still pissed her off, it's like, come on mom! Anyway…), I hopped into my truck and drove to the Evans' house.

It was sprinkling lightly by the time I arrived, which was annoying but I was distracted by how many cars sat parked in the drive-way. There had to be twenty—no, _thirty_—cars sitting on the gravel, counting Sharpay's pink Mustang convertible and Ryan's old Woody (he had totaled the Porsche given to him on his sixteenth birthday).

I nearly had a heart attack when I saw an old, badly beaten jeep parked near Ryan's car. I immediately recognized the license plate number and little sister placed "Hello Kitty" bumper sticker. I knew a lot of the other cars around here too. Next to Chad's was Jason's hand-me-down Ford-something and Zeke's _very_ used convertible. I also spotted cars belonging to a couple members of the hockey team, football team, and even some tennis first stringers.

So much for a drama club member "plus one" party.

I opened the front door and wasn't at all shocked. The house was packed, bodies pushed up against bodies. There weren't as many people as I'd thought from the parking situation but there had to be at least seventy people, probably more, jammed into the living room. Most were just standing around, unsure of what to do except shout to friends over the pounding music. But don't think that just because there were a lot of people there that it means it was, like, sleazy or something. It was… I dunno. But it wasn't gross or nasty or anything.

I spent most of my time chatting with Ryan and Gabriella, gulping down cokes and convincing her to go out for _the Phantom of the Opera_ (which we did, after a couple of minutes). Sometimes I'd glance at the crowded dance floor and think I'd seen Chad or Eurasian-man but whenever I looked back they had gone. It was kind of creepy. Every now and then Sharpay would join us to momentarily play hostess, but would leave soon after.

"I'm going to go get another soda," I called over the obnoxiously loud music. Ryan nodded and I began to push through the crowd.

As I neared the refreshment table a voice called out from behind me:

"Hey, Bolton!"

I turned around and there stood Eurasian-man with a basketball held in his large, long hands. Before I could react, he had pulled his arm back and flung the ball at me.

It hit me right in the center of the face. I could hear a sort of crunching _snap_ on impact as my nose shattered. I blinked as my face began to paralyze from the pounding pain. I attempted to regain some sort of composure as blood flowed freely down my face, but, of course, that wasn't going to happen.

Suddenly, a cool, fruity liquid was poured over my head and down the rest of my body. It was sticky and wet but irritated my eyes so much that they turned red and began to sting. I spun on my heels to catch the culprits.

It was Andy and Jose (Hockey team captain). Both they and Eurasian-man were laughing.

"Fruit-punch!" Andy called out with glee. To my immense embarrassment, he said it loud enough that everyone stopped talking to each other and started to stare.

Even worse, a lot of them laughed.

"What are you idiots doing?"

Both voices came from either side of me. When I looked to my left, I saw Sharpay, looking terribly pissed, and to my right I saw… Chad. His face twisted in anger.

Both of them began to yell at Jose, Andy and Eurasian-man at the same time.

"What kind of dumb joke is that?" shouted Chad, looking livid.

"How dare you do that to him?" screamed Sharpay, stamping her foot and flinging her bangle-covered arms into the air.

"You're totally wrecking the party!"

"How can you treat a human being that way?"

"Yeah! Do you guys always have to be jerks to him?"

"He's your old captain for God's sake!"

"Look, I'm going." I said, raising my hands to stop their yelling. "Bye."

I didn't push to leave. The crowd parted as I walked towards the door. No one said a thing, but they all stared, their eyes following me until I finally slammed the door to the main entrance shut.

The rain was falling hard when I left the house so I pulled up my hood and ran. In the few seconds that it took to reach my truck, I became totally and completely soaked. I slammed the door shut and turned up the heater. A hard, thumping beat began to come through the speakers. It was Kanye West or… someone like that. Anyway, it's not important.

I sped away from the Evans… estate or whatever feeling thoroughly… annoyed. Despite the super-hard rain, the fruit punch was still all over me, causing my clothes to stick to my body and made my hair dry in little points. I'd probably be dry by the time I got home because it took, like, thirty minutes to get to the Evans' normally and at some point during the party something happened to one of the roads so I had to take a longer route home, forcing me to go out on to some of the bumpy desert roads which are, like, _hell_ to drive on in the rain. This makes the trip about, like, an hour longer than necessary in a good car, which mine, of course, isn't.

So I was driving down the dirt road I had to take to get home when suddenly there was a loud _thunk!_ and the tuck lurched, causing my head to fly forward so hard that I hit the stirring wheel. (Hooray! Now I didn't only have a broken in nose, but also a smashed in forehead.) My vision was slightly blurry from the blow, but I could see smoke pouring from the hood through the heavy sheets of rain.

Lovely.

I pushed open the door and popped up the hood, flinching from the sharp chill of the cold, wet night. If I knew anything about cars I might've been able to fix the problem, but the fact was that I didn't. I mean, I was good at _helping_ my dad repair little problems and things—I used to love reaching in between the parts to pull out some loose screw or something—but I didn't know how to do it myself. Whenever my dad began to talk about how to fix such-and-such a thing with the engine I just sort of tuned-out, nodding at appropriate moments. As I gazed down at the tangle of… mechanical bits, I realized that I really ought to have paid attention, but whatever. I couldn't change anything then could I?

I slammed it shut, jumped back into the warm shelter of the truck and shook my hair out, spraying drops of water all over the windscreen.

"Shit…" I moaned, pounding my head against the stirring wheel. "Shit. Damn. Crap. Stupid truck. Broken. Bitchy. F—" I stopped as I remembered my cell phone. It was still in my pocket.

I shifted in my seat to pull it out. I glanced at the pictures along the top of the screen. Good signal, but almost no minutes, just barely enough to make one phone call.

I called my house, hoping my dad could come and pick me up. It took a couple of minutes for anyone to pick up the phone but finally my mother's voice came through the receiver.

"Hello?" I'd never been happier to hear her voice, even though it sounded scratchy and wavered because of the cell phone.

"Hey mom, I don't have a lot of minutes left so have to make this pretty quick—my truck broke down and I dunno how to fix it. Can you or dad come out and get me?"

"I'm sorry Troy! My car's in the shop and your father is out with some of his friends."

"Can't you call him? Shouldn't he have his cell phone?"

"I'll try. I'll send you a message once I'm done, okay?"

I quickly told her where I was.

"Thanks," I hung up and waited. About thirty minutes later a dinky little nameless melody played signifying a text message. I flipped the phone open and read it.

_Your father doesn't have his cell and I don't know where he and his friends are. Should I call Ryan or Gabriella?_

I sighed. I knew Gabriella didn't have her cell with her or had a car, Ryan usually kept his phone up in his room and I had no idea what his house number was.

_No,_ I typed quickly._ What should I do?_

A few seconds later I received a reply.

_Pray._

I'd almost forgotten who I was talking to—my mother, the reluctant reform.

I twiddled with the radio dial, trying to find something good. Of course, nothing was on that I liked. I left it on some crumby Avril Lavigne song and flopped back in the seat. The rain continued to pound against the windscreen. I shut my eyes as the stupid static-filled radio played.

"_Hey! Hey! You! You! I don't like your girlfriend! No way! No way! I think you need a new one!_"

"Bossy little bitch," I muttered and had a sudden, inexplicable craving for a hamburger.

The next song played wasn't any better than that. It was some screaming guy yelling about wanting to kill himself.

I found myself saying the psalm my mom always said when something went wrong. "_I will lift up mine eyes unto the mountains:_ _from whence shall my help come? My help cometh from HaShem, who made heaven and earth. He will not suffer thy foot to be moved; He that keepeth thee will not slumber. Behold, He that keepeth Israel doth neither slumber nor sleep. HaShem is thy keeper; HaShem is thy shade upon thy right hand. The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night. HaShem shall keep thee from all evil; He shall keep thy soul. HaShem shall guard thy going out and thy coming in, from this time forth and for ever._"

I surprised that I could remember the whole thing. Opening my eyes, I stared out the front window and watched the rain turn the dark outside world into a blur.

And that's how I spent the next hour, staring out the window and listening to lame music. Once they played a song that I was okay with ("Apologize" by One Republic and… that guy whose name I don't remember.), but I always find that song funny because he sings "'pologize" instead of "apologize" so I laughed through most of it. I wished I could call my mom and tell her I was alright, she was probably worried sick, but since I couldn't I continued to jokingly sing along with some techno-pop girl and her drum machine.

"_What hurts the most…_" she sang.

"_Was being so clo-hose!_" I crooned in a stupid falsetto. I liked the Rascal Flatts version more. "_And having so much to say… And watching you walk away!_" I propped my feet up on the dash and began to pretend to conduct. "_Never know-hing! What could have be-heen! And not seeing that lovin' yo—_Oh my God!" I shrieked. I fell down in my seat and became partially wedged in between the stirring wheel and the chair.

Of course, I had a reason for screaming and falling. Someone had tapped on the window.

I pushed myself out of the gap and looked through the rain-streaked plexi-glass. I couldn't really see the person, but I knew that silhouette.

Slowly and uncertainly, I rolled down the window.

"Hey Troy," said Chad. His hair had seriously deflated from the few seconds that he'd been out in the rain. "Your mom called me."

Damn her.

"You want a ride?"

I thought for a moment about saying no, rolling up the window and continuing my brainless activities, but then I remembered my mom, who had to be going crazy not being able to know whether or not I was okay. I couldn't just stay here while she tore out her hair, waiting for my dad to come home.

"Sure," I said, a little reluctantly. "What should we do about the truck?"

"Um… we can call a tow-truck once we get to my house," he said. I could tell he was just as apprehensive to talk to me as I was to him.

I nodded and he got of the way so I could open the door.

The car ride was really awkward. Chad almost never turns on his radio unless he has his iPod and all the plugs with him, which I guess he didn't. We just sat next to each other in silence for at least fifteen minutes. Finally, as I was reaching over towards the dial, Chad spoke.

"Troy?"

"Yeah?" I said, withdrawing my hand.

"I'm really sorry about those idiots and…" he took a breath, gripping the stirring wheel so hard his knuckles were white. "And about everything."

I looked up at his face, his eyes were fixed (reassuringly) on the road, but he would occasionally glance over at me, hoping I would say something. I didn't.

"It was… stupid of me, I just thought…" he paused, trying to figure out how to say what he was thinking. " I just thought that you had been using Gabriella to hide the fact that you were gay, and I thought that was really rotten and that I should teach you a lesson. I know I went about it the wrong way but…"

"You know, I'm not gay," I said, staring at my sticky knees. "I'm bi."

"Yeah, I know that _now_ but at the time—"

I sat up and looked at him once more. "Why do you know that _now_? You didn't believe me when I told you before."

"Ryan confronted me a while ago and I've wanted to talk to you since," he looked over at me. "Well actually since the team decided to kick you off… Things got out of hand. I sort of lost control over them. If it makes you feel better, Zeke didn't want you out either."

"It does actually…" I said quietly, gazing out through the windscreen.

"Troy," Chad looked straight at me. "I really am sorry. I've known you forever. We've been like brothers. Heck, I practically lived at your house for several years. I don't want to loose you as a friend because of some… brain aneurism… a moment of temporary insanity. Please, forgive me."

I bit my lip.

"We're still friends," I said, smiling at him.

And suddenly, the rain seemed to clear.

We didn't say anything until we reached Chad's house. After calling the tow-truck, Chad looked over at me and smiled.

"Want to sleep over?"

"I'd love it."

After calling my mom and reassuring her that I was alright, we went up to Chad's room and watched films. We were half-way through _Bourne Identity_ (we had decided to have a _Bourne_-fest) when Chad turned towards me.

"You coming to the Winter dance?"

I thought about it for a moment. If I went, it would probably be with Ryan and Gabriella, who would probably dance together most of the time. It'd be like a reenactment of _Napoleon Dynamite_, starring me as Napoleon. Also, everyone would stare at me like "Oh my God, I wonder if he's going to dance with another guy…" It'd be awful.

"Probably not," I said, watching the car chase on the screen.

"Oh," he said, turning over on his bed so the screen was upside-down. "I spoke to Ryan and Gabriella a bit at the party and they want you to go."

"Why did you continue to speak to Ryan when you were so angry at me for liking him?"

"I dunno. Ryan's fun."

I didn't push it.

----------

----------

**Finally! Whoo! Sorry this took so long and (honestly) wasn't all that good. I wanted to make them friends again though. Oh well. Here are the songs mentioned:**

**1** "Girlfriend" by Avril Lavigne (I'm sorry for making fun of "Girlfriend" since I know some of you guys probably like it, but Avril Lavigne just annoys me so much now. I liked her first two albums, but this new one is, like… slutty… Anyway… Yeah.)

**2** "Apologize" by One Republic and Timbaland (Sorry about this one as well, I really do find it funny that he says "'pologize" though.)

**3** "What Hurts the Most" by Cascada/Rascal Flatts (I actually really like both versions of this song!)

**Also, about mentioning Kanye West, I love the song "Stronger", so… yeah.**

**And the psalm (121, 1-8, I think...) that Troy says should be fairly accurate. I looked it up anyway. If there are any faults, please tell me. **

**Please review!**

**-OFsI**


	12. Sing, My Angel of Music!

**Fickle**

Old Fiat

Currently Listening: "Gorgeous" and "Don't Let Me Down" by Idina Menzel from her album, _I Stand_.

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**Chapter 11: "Sing, My Angel of Music!"**

I woke up the next morning to Chad shaking me.

"Dude, get up!" he shouted in my ear, jerking me back and forth. "Come on!"

Blinking and scratching my head, I sat up. Chad was standing there in a maroon button-up shirt, khakis and black nice coat. He looked annoyed.

"Dude, I have to get to church. You can hang around the house if you want, but you have to wake up to lock the door."

"Oh, thanks," I slid out of his bed and stumbled down the stairs behind him.

"Good morning Troy," said Mrs. Danforth. She didn't seem all that surprised by my presence and she didn't really have any reason to be. Excluding the past couple of months, I usually stay over at Chad's house or he stays over at mine every night. I said that before I think. "Help yourself to anything in the kitchen and feel free to take a shower."

"Thank you, Mrs. Danforth," I said, smiling at her and trying to stay awake.

Mr. Danforth came down the stairs behind me, fixing his watch on to his wrist as he came. Sometimes I wonder if I prefer Mr. Danforth to my own dad when it comes to advice. I mean, it's weird, because he's a lawyer and sometimes has no clue what I'm talking about, but sometimes it's easier to open up to someone that doesn't feel the need to punish or praise you. Also, he has this sort of round face and round body to match so he's just so _friendly_ looking that you just glance at him and you feel the urge to call him dad.

"Is everyone ready?" he asked, wrapping his arm around his only daughter, Prudence (known as Pru by me and Chad). "Chadwith, you took a shower this morning, right?"

And at other times, I'm so happy I don't have to call him Dad.

"Yeah…" said Chad, looking mildly annoyed.

"Good morning, Troy," he said, raising one eyebrow at the way I was rocking back and forth. "See you later. Please lock the door."

"Certainly, Mr. Danforth," I said, trying to grin and ending up with a sort of grimace-smirk.

He chuckled softly as the family filed out the door. "Bye." The door clicked behind him.

After fumbling with the lock, I ate breakfast and took a shower. Unfortunately, I had not had the foresight to bring over clothes last night (I'd borrowed a pair of Chad's pajamas for the night) and had to resort to nicking some of his jeans and a t-shirt. I knew Chad wouldn't really care. I think I still had his Spider Man action figure he'd loaned me a good ten years ago in my closet some place. Also, half of his t-shirts are actually mine because I always forget things at his house.

I was relieved to see that my nose had stopped swelling (it turned out it wasn't broken, but bruised), but unfortunately it had turned a dark, purplish color. And, I'm not a big fan of busted blood vessel purple, so I wasn't all that psyched by this.

Anyway, I basically just hung around in Chad's room until the Danforths came back. I flipped through his treasured collection of X-Men comics and the many spy and sci-fi novels when I saw a plain, leather bound notebook. There was nothing particularly special about it—sort of a dark reddish-brown color, nothing written on the cover. I opened it to the middle and saw two pages covered in Chad's loopy handwriting. As I flipped through it, I realized it was a journal. I nearly closed it, but I saw my name on the page and began to read.

_Well I'm an idiot. I followed through with my plan and… I don't feel any better for it. I think I hurt Troy a lot more than I meant to. Don't feel much like writing. –C_

I closed the journal and put it exactly as I'd found it. Even though I sort of had the right to read the rest of it, seeing as he read mine _and_ showed it to everyone, but I didn't really want to. I just sort of lounged until I heard the door opening downstairs when I rushed to the stairs.

Chad looked up at me as he kicked off his shoes.

"That's my shirt!" he said, pulling off his coat as he walked towards the stairs. I could see that he was laughing slightly because he knew what I'd say.

"Are you kidding?" I asked, going along with our usual argument. "I got this when I was in California summer before-last, remember?"

Chad paused a moment. "No… Give it back."

I laughed as we walked into his room to watch _Zoolander_, one of our sleepover traditions.

----------

When auditions finally rolled around, I was about ten times happier. Best friends tend to have that effect. Anyway, I was actually late for them because I'd been chatting with Chad outside of the gym when I realized that I should've been there about ten minutes before.

I took off running and arrived a few seconds later. I'm only missed a couple of the auditions for Christine, but arrived in time to hear Gabriella's. She has a lovely voice, but I knew she didn't really want the part. I think Mrs. Darbus could tell too, because she seemed a little disappointed. My audition was okay. I mean, it wasn't the best I could've done, but it was better than anyone else's so I felt pretty good about it. Ryan and Sharpay were the only pairs audition and, of course, the most flamboyant.

Sharpay stood on the stage in a soft white dress—her blonde hair had been curled and fell around her shoulders. Before she began to sing, I thought she couldn't do it. I had looked it up and Christine is supposed to be a soprano and Sharpay is an alto.

All doubts left my mind once she began to sing.

"_In sleep he sang to me,_" she projected, looking truly… ethereal, or something like that. "_The Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my mind._"

Ryan seemed almost to appear behind her. He was wearing a black turtle neck, black slacks and a white half-mask thing that each of the boys auditioning for the Phantom wore.

"_Sing once again with me—our strange duet_," he wrapped his arms around Sharpay and looked out on the auditorium. "_My power over you grows stronger yet._"

I was actually impressed by this audition, unlike the one they did for Twinkle Towne which was seriously bizarre. I was entranced as Ryan shouted, getting really into the role.

"_Sing, my angel of music!_" he called as Sharpay trilled higher and higher.

Mrs. Darbus burst into applause and a couple of other people did too, myself included. Ryan happily took off the mask and he and Sharpay bowed and curtsied respectively.

"You've got the part down pat," I said to Ryan as he and I walked to the chemistry lab.

"Thanks," he said, beaming. I knew he loved this musical, so I still had yet to tell him I found it way overly tacky. "You did great too."

I smiled slightly. "Not really. I slipped a bit at the end."

Ryan shrugged. "The girl Darbus chose to sing with you hit a lot of off notes, don't worry."

We walked in silence until he spoke again.

"Are you going to the Winter dance?"

"No, I don't think so," I said, putting my hands in my pockets.

"Oh… Gabriella wants you to go," he said, looking down the hallway.

"Why? Isn't someone taking her?"

"Yeah, I am, but I think she'd like to have you there too."

I thought for a second. "Maybe I will."

Ryan grinned. "Good. Two weeks. Gabriella's wearing red."

With that, he entered the lab and I followed like an idiot, not suspecting a thing.

----------

By the time the Winter dance came, the play was cast—I was Raoul, Ryan was The Phantom, Sharpay was Christine and Gabriella was Meg and understudy to Sharpay—and rehearsals had begun. In fact, I was actually looking forward to the dance. I'd chosen to wear my black jeans and bought a bright red t-shirt to wear under my white button up shirt so as to match Gabriella. I knew Ryan was going to be wearing a red coat, white shirt and white trousers and I had purposely tried not to have my outfit go exactly with his. Also I didn't really want to wear a suit coat so… yeah…

Anyway, I arrived outside the gymnasium few minutes before them and waited until Ryan's Woody pulled into one of the few empty parking spaces. We all entered together. The gym was covered in pale blue and white streamers and silver balloons. They had hung the ancient disco ball from the ceiling as they always did for dances. Most of the student body was packed on the dance floor and Ryan instantly dragged Gabriella into the mass, leaving me to wonder over to the snack table.

I spent most of the evening that way. I probably gained, like, five pounds in about thirty minutes as Ryan pushed and pulled Gabriella through complicated dance steps. It was really annoying to watch them. I really did feel like Napoleon Dynamite, just as I predicted. After a while, they came over, laughing hard and completely out of breath, and joined me in my lounging. I danced with Gabriella a couple of times and Chad and Taylor talked to me at the snack table.

It was so boring.

I was drinking what I swore would be my last cup of punch and preparing to go home. Chad and Taylor had just gone out on the dance floor again when I noticed that I couldn't see Ryan or Gabriella. This wasn't very surprising. They might've moved to the center of the room, but I still walked into the crowd of swaying couples. I might as well have put my hand over my heart and marched out in front of a firing squad.

I reached the center of the mass and saw a flash of scarlet. I turned and saw Ryan pull Gabriella back from the spin. They looked so cute together. Ryan was so pale—light hair, light skin, blue eyes—and Gabriella was so dark—her tanned face and brown eyes surrounded by her curly black hair. She was giggling. He was smiling.

Their lips met.

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**Poor Troy! And my poor readers. I make you wait months and months and then I give you a partial cliff-hanger! MWAHAHAHA! XD **

**And I know the bit with The Phantom of the Opera was TOTALLY tacky and predictable. I also know that PotO is still on Broadway, so it would cost heaps to perform. I forgot then when originally writing this. ::smacks forehead.::**

**Please review and tell me what you thought! The ending is coming fast and I want predictions!**

**-OFsI**


	13. Heat

**Fickle**

Old Fiat

Currently Listening: "Don't Let Me Down" by Idina Menzel from her album, _I Stand_.

Yay! Another chapter! We're getting still closer…

----------

----------

**Chapter 12: Heat**

Gabriella's arms wrapped around Ryan's neck and his hands gently touched her waist, slowly pulling her closer to him. His pale fingers were soon in her thick dark hair. They had stopped dancing and were just standing—both with their eyes shut, using their hands to see.

I nearly dropped my cup of punch, but instead chose to hurl the plastic container at Ryan.

He and Gabriella broke apart as the red liquid was absorbed into the fabric of his shirt. I knew one of them said something, but I had turned away and was already pushing through the people, most of who were staring at me.

At least, I think they were. I don't know for sure. I was trying too hard to get away, too frantic to really be able to see anything. I felt hot though, and I don't mean attractive. I mean sweaty, sticky, cloudy warmth. It filled my head and made it difficult to hear or understand anything I saw. I could hear my heart, beating hard and fast against my chest, and I could still see Gabriella with her arms around him, their lips pressed together.

I ran out of the auditorium, my whole body growing hotter and hotter. Though it's strange, the first place I went was the bathroom. I guess I thought there wouldn't be many people in there and I was right. There was nobody in the long tiled room.

I quickly went over to one of the sinks and drank some of the frigid cold water. The burning feeling behind my eyes wouldn't cease. My whole body shook as I leaned against one of the stall doors. I couldn't get my thoughts straight. Random memories, formulas and pointless facts kept coming up in my memory and then disappearing a nanosecond later. The image of Ryan and Gabriella in the center of the dance floor was the most frequent visitor.

And suddenly, the heat pounding throughout my head faded a little as something wet fell down my cheek.

I was crying.

I haven't cried in a bazillion years so for a moment my body was frozen, my racing thoughts still whirling around my head. Then I burst into thick, heaving sobs and my whole body began to burn and shake as I fell to the cool, white floor. Suddenly, my mind began to question everything as the images continued to flash in the sticky fog.

_Gabriella gave me a relieved smile as we promised to be friends._

Was she lying?

_Ryan dancing with me at Chad's birthday_.

Had he started making the moves on Gabriella before we broke up?

_Chad's diary_.

Was he really sorry?

_My dad telling me he supported me, no matter what._

Did he mean it?

My tears splashed against the tiles as I gasped for air. It was too hot. My head would surely explode. But would anyone care? No, because they were all fickle—stupid fickle people who pretended to be friends and then stabbed you in the back. They'd rush to me again if I did anything famous or important or… stuff. It was getting harder and harder to think.

The sobs racking my body began to slow as I lay my head against the tile, in the pool of tears. I shut my eyes and tried to pretend that nothing had happened. That it was still August twentieth and I still had the whole student body on my side. Or maybe, better yet, that it was still July third and I still loved Gabriella more than anything in the universe.

How could Gabriella have done this? She said she was my friend. I thought she… That she'd help me or something. She was totally ready to! She'd tried to ask Ryan out for me, but I…

I didn't want to think. I didn't want to move. I just wanted to lie on the tile for the rest of my life and not talk to anyone ever again.

But of course, then someone came into the bathroom.

I sat up, unsure of whether it was so-called "friend" or some jerk, but it was Ryan (who, at this point, went under the latter).

"What do you want?" I asked. I felt totally stupid. I sounded stupid too, like some little kid who had just thrown a tantrum when no one was around to hear it.

Which is sort of what I'd done, actually.

Ryan looked down at my tear stained, tomato red face. He looked like he was… like he was _pitying_ me.

"If you aren't going to say anything then you can _go away_." Actually, I didn't say '_go away_'. Well, I did, but in far ruder terms.

He sat down next to me. I saw, with a tiny glint of satisfaction, that the collar and a good portion of the front of his shirt had been stained pink.

"Cold water will get that out, you know," I said after a while, gesturing to his shirt.

"I tried that," he said softly. "It didn't work."

"Oh."

We just sat there, side by side. Neither one of us wanted to speak. I just counted the ticks of my watch as we didn't move.

"Troy," Ryan finally said, his voice a little rough. "I hope you aren't blaming Gabriella for that."

"Of course not," I said, trying to keep track of the number of seconds passing as I spoke. "I blame both of you."

He laughed lightly and I sort of wanted to walk off, but my face was still scarlet, so I stayed sitting.

"That's the way to do it," he said and smiled.

I don't know why he did it, but I blinked and suddenly his face was right in front of mine. I could feel his breath on my nose and cheeks. I could smell the cologne he bought just for this night. It was almost intoxicating.

"Listen, Troy," he said, his eyes staring straight into mine. "I can give you what you want, but I don't think you'll be happier for it."

"What do you mean?" I asked, being a complete moron.

"I mean, what have you been wanting me to do ever since you first noticed me in 'that way'?"

I felt like I was choking. I couldn't even say anything. In fact, I just ended up nodding, whatever that meant in this situation. I mean, it wasn't a yes-or-nor question or anything.

Ryan pressed his mouth against mine. It was _amazing_. It was _fabulous_. I pictured fireworks were going off in my mind as I kissed him back, all my emotions flooding into the action.

And yet, I didn't like it.

I couldn't work out why at first as I pulled him closer to me. It was just what I'd wanted. No—just what I'd _needed_. But it still felt… cold. I wanted to flush with warmth the way I had done when I used kiss Gabriella, yet it was just a kiss. The fireworks weren't going off of their own accord. I had to forcibly make them appear. I wanted it to be amazing. I wanted it to be fabulous. But I wanted Ryan to think it was amazing and fabulous too.

That was it, I realized as we broke apart, his lips pink from the kiss. I looked at him. His eyes were blank; none of the joy I'd seen in them when he danced with Gabriella remained.

_He doesn't want this,_ that dumb voice in my head whispered. _And you don't want to force him._

I wanted to argue (mentally) back that I did so want that. I wanted to think that I couldn't have been happier during that kiss, that'd I'd never been happier ever before. But it wasn't true. I didn't want to force Ryan into anything. It wouldn't be… yeah…

Ryan stood up. "I didn't think it would." He looked down at me as I stared at the wall across from me. After a while, I heard the door close and turned back towards where he'd been standing.

He'd left.

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**I thought I'd post this today since I'm working on chapter thirteen right now. Hope you guys liked it! Please give me feedback and shtuff. :)**

**-OFsI**


	14. For the Better

**Fickle**

Old Fiat

Currently Listening: "Defying Gravity" by Idina Menzel from her single, _Defying Gravity_. It's not the same as the version in _Wicked_. The lyrics and arrangement have been changed a little and it's a studio version.

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**Chapter 13: For the Better**

I knew I wouldn't be able to face anyone at school for a while, so I stayed at home on the day after, pretending to be sick and preparing to continue the act on Monday. Chad was the only one to visit me on Sunday (the day after the dance). We basically hung out and avoided mentioning Ryan or Gabriella. Which, you know, is always enjoyable.

"So, do you want me to bring your copy of the script from Darbus?" he asked as he got up to leave, still wearing his church clothes.

"Yeah that'd be great," I said, my stomach flipping at the thought of Ryan or Gabriella coming over.

I did the whole act on Monday morning for my mom—getting dressed and telling her I was really too sick to go to school. I actually did feel sort of sick, but I always feel that way after lying. She fell for it though and I got to stay in bed.

I was lying in my room listening to my iPod most of the day. I avoided the songs I'd downloaded from _The Phantom of the Opera_ to listen to in preparation for the musical and just listening to my bizarre mélange of show tunes, pop and rock. I was listening to "'Till There Was You" from _The Music Man_ and was nearly asleep when the doorbell rang.

Dazedly, I tripped down the stairs and saw a small silhouette through the warped glass. I unlocked the door and opened it. Once I saw who was outside, I tried to slam the door but she held it open and walked in.

"Gabriella, leave," I said, sounding a lot harsher than I meant to.

She just sighed softly and looked up into my eyes. "No," she said defiantly.

"Leave right now!" I screamed. I really, absolutely, could _not_ speak to Gabriella at that point. When I looked at her I felt a horrible mixture of loathing, guilt and pounding anger.

"No!" she shouted right back. "I have to talk to you."

"Why? So you can tell me the details of how you became a slut because, believe me, I do _not_ want to hear it!"

I'd gone too far.

"I'm sorry," I said, trying to dodge her gaze.

"Don't," she said so softly I could barely hear her. "Don't apologize unless you really mean it, Troy."

"Gabriella—" I started, but she held up her hand to stop me.

"You aren't sorry," she said simply. "I know you aren't sorry because you just don't get it. You're too _bloody self-centered _to get _anything_ that isn't totally about _you_!"

"_I'm_ self-centered?" I shouted. "_I'm_ self-centered! What do you think _you_ are, Gabriella? Some kind of freakin' angel?"

"Of course, not," she said contemptuously. "But at least I'm better than _you_."

"How are you better than me?" I asked, waving my hands to try and express my anger.

"Because I at least _tried_ to make you happy!" she yelled, her cheeks flushed. "I tried to ask out Ryan for you, I tried to get Chad to make up with you sooner, I even tried to get him to take back what he said to the school, but it all comes to nothing because I never get a_ single thing_ in return for _everything_ I do for you!" Her eyes were filling with tears as she shouted. "Don't you realize how _humiliated_ and… _hurt_ I was by you breaking up with me?"

"So you start snogging Ryan to get over it? Wow, Gabs! I never knew this side of you!"

"Shut up, Troy!" she said, tears spilling over her cheeks. "Is it a crime for me to want to be happy? I told you when we broke up that I wanted you to be happy! _Why can't you do the same for me?_"

"I dunno, Gabi…" I said, pretending to think carefully. "Maybe because it's with the person _I fell for_?"

"Troy," she shook her head. "You're seeing this the wrong way—"

"How am I supposed to—"

"_Let me finish!_" she screamed and I instantly shut my mouth. "When you broke up with me, you had the chance to go out with Ryan. I didn't have any chance for anything because I was till in love with you!"

Neither of us spoke for several minutes. Gabriella breathed heavily, trying to calm down, and I just stood there, unsure of what to say or do.

"Troy, I…" she paused. "Me and Ryan—"  
She was cut off as I pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Gabriella," I said, pushed her head against my chest. "You're my best friend in the whole world—you can be with whoever you want."

"You too, Troy," she pulled her head away and looked at me, a smile on her lips. "I would never want to deny you a single happiness. Me and Ryan… We aren't really together, but if we do… you know…"

"We're still friends," I promised, holding out my pinkie. "Forever."

"And ever," she said jokingly, linking her finger around mine.

And for some reason, I felt happier than I'd felt when Ryan kissed me.

----------

Ryan and I reconciled at school the next day.

It was during the first rehearsal of _The Phantom of the Opera_. Mrs. Darbus didn't really want us to practice songs yet or anything. But we did have to take our measurements and give them to a girl named Annette—embarrassing, to say the least—and begin work painting some of the sets. So, I guess it wasn't really a rehearsal but more a sort of… preparation? Anyway, Ryan and I were putting together the boat for the scene where the Phantom and Christine go down in the basement and stuff when he paused in his painting and looked up at me.

"Troy… About me and Gabriella…" he began, but I waved it off.

"It's fine," I said with a grin. "We're cool."

His face broke into a relieved smile. "Thank God… I hate being in fights with people. It just feels… bad, you know?"

I nodded and laughed.

Finally, my life was taking a change for the better.

-----**THE END**-----

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**Woot! It's done! Well, there's gonna be an epilogue, but I'll probably work on that… later. **

**Anyway, please don't kill me for not putting Troy and Ryan together like… yeah, together. Remember, the epilogue is coming…**

**Special mention and kudos to anyone who can pick out what this is based on:**

"We're still friends," I promised, holding out my pinkie. "Forever."

"And ever," she said jokingly, linking her finger around mine.

**HINT: It's from a film released in the fall of 2007.**

**The epilogue coming soon! Please tell me what you think!**

**-OFsI**


	15. Epilogue: Opening Night

**Fickle**

Old Fiat

Currently Listening: "Defying Gravity" by Idina Menzel from her single, _Defying Gravity_.

Here's the epilogue you guys. It's been a pleasure getting your reviews and writing for you all. Thank you!

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**Epilogue: Opening Night**

"Go now!" Ryan shouted at me. "Go now and leave me!"

I grabbed Sharpay's hand and we headed towards the boat.

Ryan gazed at the white mask in his hands and, as a tickling melody formed, he sang softly;

"_Masquerade… Paper faces on parade…Masquerade,_" his voice cracked slightly. "_Hide your face so the world will never find you…_"

Sharpay walked back towards him and slipped the ring off her finger, dropping it into one of his hands. He looked up sadly.

"Christine… I love you…"

Sharpay turned and ran back to me. And as we pulled into the shadows, she sang to me;

"_Say you'll share with me, one love, one lifetime… Say the word and I will follow you…_"

I smiled down at her. "_Share each day with me…_"

_"Each night_…"

"_Each morning…_" we sang together.

As we sailed away, Ryan gazed after us.

"_You alone can make my song take flight…_" he sang, slipping the ring on his finger. "_It's over now… The music of the night…_"

He walked over to his throne and as the angry mob entered, wrapped his cloak around him and disappeared.

I watched Gabriella walk over and pick up his mask in his hand before the curtain came down and the auditorium rang with applause.

Ryan ran up behind me back stage.

"So, how'd I do?" he asked, his cheeks flushed under the layers of wax and stage make up.

"Great!" I said smiling. "I felt sort of guilty when you sang that bit of "Masquerade"."

"As you should," he said jokingly. "Stealing my girl and all that."

Sharpay walked over, still wearing her long white dress.

"Come on guys!" she snapped. "We have to go take our bows!"

"Oh right," I said, laughing as I saw Ryan roll his eyes at Sharpay.

"In a couple of seconds, Shar. Jeez. Give the ensemble some time to get off the stage before you march on."

Gabriella joined us only a second after the last word left Ryan's lips.

"That was fun, wasn't it?" she said excitedly.

"One of the best opening nights this school has ever had," I said with a smile.

We filed back onto the stage and the curtain flew back up. Everyone clapped as we bowed and Sharpay curtsied. Chad actually stood up and whistled and I glanced over at Ryan. He was trying not to laugh at Chad's antics.

Our eyes met across the stage. He smiled at me and I smiled back.

I hadn't gained any trophies or received any medals, but I knew I'd won more than can be described with words.

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**C**

_**I'm very disappointed Mr. Bolton. I expected better out of you. –Ms. Morgan**_

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**Ha ha! Troy goes through so much trouble and gets C. **

**Anyway, I'm going to go through my kudos:**

**The two people tied for the most kudos are Tertiary Genesis—for inspiring me to write a Tryan at all—and my writing partner, Old Fiat Northern France—for helping me with the plot along the way.**

**Next up is JustAnAmateur, for giving me advice, ending permission and ratings on all my chapters. **

**Then there's Just-Nikki, who unfortunately stopped commenting, but gave me my favorite review (on chapter seven):** "_Bu... bu... but... But that's so mean! Troy! Be a man! When are you going to punch someone:( Everyone's a jerk. I've never like Gabriella before. Now I do. They should just go on a big 'ol punching spree._" **You'll never know how much I laugh every time I read that… Or think about it. C:**

**Forth is Shatterd Diamond, who gave me the biggest compliment by liking this story without being a huge fan of **_**High School Musical**_**. Okay… That sounds weird, but it's true!**

**Fifth is Peppermint Smile, for keeping me in a Tryan-writing mood with their story **_**Fire and Ice**_

**And all my reviewers! Here are your names in no particular order:**

Hsmfan0688 (Thanks for reviewing almost every chapter!)

iHeArTfAnFiCs (I wish you would update that fan fiction of yours that I like!)

Charlz

M.L. Shards

Darkicefire

Fieryflame

Maelstrom2

Theo (who is actually a BFF. :D)

BabyGlover

Chuckness

Bdwy411

Loosedefense

Digi-Girl101

Picky and paranoid

VandySkyXBridge

Keira Almar (Who is one of my BFFs. I love you Homie-G!)

HyugaHiazi

Stellar Raven

Twilight

Alexb91

Floragirl101

Philosopher-kaiser

Shauuun

**I'm sad that nobody tried to answer what the **"_Forever_." "_And ever_." **thing was based on. It's from one of my favorite films ever, **_**Enchanted**_**. I saw it at the cinema **_**five times**_**! I can't wait to get the DVD!**

**And, though I know she's not reading this, I big shout out to Idina Menzel, whose great songs got me through he last couple of chapters. :)**

**Goodbye my loves!**

**-OFsI**


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